Achievement Unlocked

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Crying on the job.

Okay, so it was while going to punch out, but I was still on the clock so I’m counting it. Besides, I had to hold it back all damn day anyway. 

Today was shit. I can’t even tell you why it was shit. It just was. I was very anxious all day. I was aware of how much I felt like I was suffocating and I could not control my breathing at all today. 

I’m sure it was stress induced, as well as me being emotional. But the icing on the cake was when some BITCH (I’m sorry but yes, she’s a bitch to me for this) wants to start lecturing me on how to take care of my body. Yeah, I know, she was just trying to help. But I’m not hearing any of it. I did not ask for advice nor did I ask for her to stare me up and down before she decided to make her comments. I’m insecure enought about my body. So thank you for making me feel like a repulsive slug that doesn’t need to be seen outdoors. I try my best so don’t sit there and ask me the things I do for MY OWN BODY and then tell me it’s all wrong and I need to do what you do. Sorry, not sorry. Thanks bitch, for making me cry and feel worse. 

Rant over. 

Happy Thoughts

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I don’t really know how to write down my thoughts right now… I feel weighted. My chest hurts. I have this subtle panic running through my body. I don’t want to be alone right now. 

I’m so focused on my breathing that it hurts. I feel so off today and I don’t know why. Is it the weather? Because I’m alone? It’s been a while since I’ve consistently felt like this, and it’s running on a few days now of this weighted feeling. I want it to go away. I would like to just talk to someone. 

I begin to over think things a lot more. Should I not have said that? Am I being too annoying? Can they tell that I feel off? 

I’m scared to be in the dark right now, but I’m also scared to move to turn the light on. The tapping of my keys on my phone is making me paranoid enough. 

I just just need to calm down. I need to breathe. That’s the whole reason I got the tattoo. Don’t forget to breathe. I’m okay. I’m safe. No need to be scared. 

Why did I not bring my dog back for the weekend? She would make me feel a lot safer. 

No Means No

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I just received a very interesting request, one that I have received multiple times before, and even multiple times from this very person. Can we be fwb? Now, here’s the part I just can’t ever seem to understand… I have vocalized many times that I do not want to fuck this person, I am not interested in them even touching me, nor do I really talk to this person or know much about them. But they still continue to ask me if I will fuck them every few months.

Last time this person tried contacting me, they asked if I would consider having a threesome with him and his girlfriend. I will tell you now, threesomes are not my thing. I am very selfish and when it comes to sex I want all the attention. It appalled me that he would ask me that after having already rejected the offer to sleep with him many times already. What makes him think I would have changed me mind? Especially since we don’t talk?

Apparently, and I’m saying this as he is messaging me this, he really likes me and would really like to have sex with me just one time. First of all, that is not the first time I have heard that from someone “I’d like to experience sex with you at least once.” Also, every time I tell him no, he continues to ask “please Alayna?” Definitely no now. I am not going to change my mind just because you said please. That’s not how this works. Just because you say you will do anything does not mean I have to drop my pants for you.

I’d say maybe if he tried for a relationship with me and not just try to convince me to have sex with him things could be different, but that would be a lie. After his very first attempt at trying to persuade me into being his little fuck buddy, he actually tried to get into a relationship with me. (Just a little insight, I had no clue who this dude was the first me he tried asking me to be friends with benefits with him.He was some random guy that had added me on KIK) I talked to him for a little while to see if I’d actually be interested in a relationshi with him, i even went out to dinner with him once. Sparks did not fly, and it really didnt help him that he had tried the whole “let’s be fuck buddies” before ever trying to get to know me. But since he liked me, he felt entitled to my body… wouldn’t be the last guy to think that. 

He contiuned to complain about how difficult I was. He just wanted it one time. What’s the harm in that? Just once and he’ll stop bothering me. Is that supposed to make me feel better? I’m not into the one night stand jazz, so that does not comfort my mind at all. Sorry (not really) that I’m not interested in sex the same way you are… But I’m not going to fuck you just because you want to fuck me. Not happening. Persisting for it will not make me change my mind. If I want to have sex with you, you’ll know. And if I don’t, please, stop the first time I say no. If I happen to change my mind, chances are I’ll find a way to let you know, but you bugging me to fuck will only make my no stronger.

Body Shaming

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I am a victim of body shaming.

For as long as I can remember, I have always been slim and petite, barely ever getting over 100 lbs. During high school, the most I had ever seen on the scale was 115 lbs, and that was just during the summer before my Sophomore year. After school started back up, I was lucky to ever get over 100 lbs. 

My weight generally stayed around 95-100 lbs during the rest of my high school years, and I was actually fairly happy with that. I thought I was pretty healthy. Aside from junk food and pop, I ate good, homemade meals. 

I did suffer from bad anxiety and possibly depression, which would make it very difficult to eat sometimes… No, I would not purposefully go without eating, my anxiety bouts would just get so bad that I could not swallow any food no matter how much I wanted to. 

I think that is what kept me at what others considered to be such a low weight… but I also had a rather high metabolism. I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound. Still, even though I was happy with my weight and figure, I was frequently being told I “needed some meat on them bones”. An innocent comment, and at the time it didn’t really bother me all that much. It got annoying, but I was happy with my appearance and that was all that mattered. 

Fast forward to almost three years our of high school, I have gained almost 20 lbs… Which, yes, is still a healthy weight for me, but I am not happy about it at all. My anxiety has gone down and I’m hardly ever depressed anymore, so gaining weight became a little easier. Having a donut a day during break at work for the last 4 months did not help any. Even though I am still at a healthy weight, I am not at all happy with my appearance. 

Although I like the way my legs look now, I always loved my thigh gap, which is barely there anymore. I have also gained a bigger butt, which I am fairly happy about. But… I have also gained a tubbier stomach… due to the donuts I presume. No one can tell that my stomach has started to fold more over my pants because of the clothes I wear to work are fairly baggy for comfortability, but once the clothes come off, it’s there and I am not happy about it.

I am constantly being told “you need to get thicker” I don’t want that at all. “Being thick isn’t a bad thing” no it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I personally want to be thick. “You don’t have to gain a larger stomach to get thick” I am well aware of that… but just because you want me to get thick, doesn’t mean I want to get thick. 

Personally, I would like to lose some weight and tone out my stomach. I do not want to gain thicker thighs or a larger ass. A bigger butt wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I want it in my standards, not someone else’s. If I want a flatter stomach, it is not for you to tell me my stomach is already flat, because it’s not. I know it’s not. It may be smaller than some people’s, but it is in no way flat. 

It’s not that I particularly want to lose weight, so much as I want my stomach to be flat again. I would be okay with my current weight if my stomach was toned to my liking.

Someone else’s weight should not concern you. Their appearance should not concern you. Your two cents is not needed or wanted unless you are speaking words of encouragement. If someone is hurting them self and putting them self in danger, yes speak up, but do not shove your views of their body down their throat. 

Stay healthy. Stay positive. Stay you. 

Tick Tock

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Tick tock, tick tock.

How I wish I could make time move faster. Or even jump through time. I would jump right to September. To the end of this lease. I can’t stand living here. I can’t stand living with her. 

I want to tell her I’m not going to resign the lease. But I can’t bring my anxiety ridden self to find the right time to do it. I want this weight off my chest, but I’m terrified to speak the words. I just want to leave. I want to be gone. I want her out of my life already. 

The longer this lasts the more I realize how much of a mistake this was. I don’t care about the lost friendship, I care about my wellbeing. The fact that I can’t just leave. I have to ride this out. And I know once I state that I will not by any means resign that lease, things will ease up for me. Maybe not with her, almost definitely not with her, but with myself. I can be calm for once. I don’t care if we don’t talk for the remainder of the lease, I’d prefer it that way. I just don’t know how to say I will not resign it. 

Oh, adulthood, how I wish I was still a kid. 

Running Out of Time

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Do you ever feel like time is just slipping away from you? As a 21 year-old, I am frequently told that I have plenty of time left in life to do certain things… i.e. find love, have children, and many other of the glorious things that life can give you. But, as time moves forward, I continue to think that these things are growing farther and farther out of my reach. I am called insane for wanting these things so early in my life, but to me, that’s all I want. I want that family of my own. I want that toddler taking their first steps. Smiling for the first time. Saying their first words. I want that husband that lays in bed with me at night. That cooks dinner with me, and sings with me, and lives life with me. Still, everyone tells me I should wait.

What is there to wait for? Aren’t you supposed to go after the things in life that you truly want? To make your dreams come true? What if that is my dream to have? Why is that such an insane thing for me to want? Just because most my age would rather wait for those things, why do I have to? Why can’t I want them now?

No one seems to understand that those are the things I crave in life. Not that I’m trying, but I would be overjoyed to find out if I was carrying a little life inside of me. I love children, with all of my heart. Sure, they can get on your nerves… but what doesn’t at some point in your life? Electronics not working right, person in line taking too long to check out, traffic is too slow… surely, given the right time, a baby is bound to irk you, too… yet I still want it more than anything.

I think what I want most is the experience of pregnancy. Which, of course, makes me even crazier in the eyes of those who have already gone through it. Pregnancy is such a beautiful thing to me… as is having a newborn baby. All babies, in fact.

Now, don’t get me wrong… I don’t want to bare just any man’s child. I want to hold the child of the man that I will spend the rest of my life with. And in this day in age, that seems to be very hard to find. For me, at least… but I still have hope that he is out there and I hope to find him soon.

I know that I still have many years ahead of me, but at the same time, I feel like life is moving way too fast. It feels like only yesterday I was still a little kid, scraping my knees and going to school. Now, here I am, a full, legal adult with bills to pay and a job to go to every morning… and let me tell you, I wish time would slow down. It’s like I blink and the year is already over, yet in school just one month felt like an eternity. What changed that makes life go by so much faster now?

That being said, I hope to be able to live life to the fullest. To do the things I truly love to do, and to accomplish everything I have my heart set on. One day, I will have a husband to come home to, and a child to love with my entire being. And I will own a laptop that isn’t a piece of shit that takes me that much longer to type because it constantly wants to scroll through what I’ve already written and prevent me from typing correctly. (Damn myself for spilling tomato soup all over my keyboard several months back.) In due time, it will all happen.

In Which, I Would Like To Go Home

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No, not this home. This is no longer my home. It hasn’t been my home for months now. It is just the place that I stay at night while I wait for September to come. Even as I write this it is brought to my attention how much I despise living with your. For once, you don’t have your music blasting through your speakers to the level in which I can no longer think straight. To where I’m yelling at my mom because your music is drilling its way through my ear canal and I cannot listen to both her talking and your music and stay sane. For once, I don’t have to deal with that torture. On the other hand, I do have to listen to your obnoxious cackling while you’re on the phone with God knows who. Or maybe you’re watching another one of your Television shows that your wrap yourself into. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it keeps you away from me. It’d be nice if you’d stay quiet though, like I try to do.

Do you want to know how it all started? I can tell you the exact moment. Well, the exact two moments when I realized I could not stand living with you…

  • You promised me I could have the larger room, because we both know that I have more stuff… and while I sit here in my cluttered little room with no where to put my belongings because my closet is already full, you get to keep your room nice and clean with the little that you have taking up its space.

You LIED!

I did not get the larger of the two rooms. Not at all. Why you ask? Because after months of being told I could have the bigger room if they were not the same size, upon arrival you, you decided you could not bare to have the smaller room. That you would be angry if you had to accept it as yours. So what did I do? To avoid confrontation, although I shouldn’t have, I agreed to rock-paper-scissor it out and see who would “win” the larger room. As you claimed you would lose, I knew for a fact you wouldn’t, because that’s how life works. I was promised something and as soon as there was a hint that it would be taken away, it was. That is the first reason, and I assure you, it is not a small one.

  • After saying how much you wanted your own privacy, and how much you wished we could put locks on our doors, you INSISTED on barging into MY room without knocking or giving any indication that you were coming in. All because you wanted to take one of MY movies to watch.

Not a big deal in your book? Well, let’s just say I had a friend in there with me… and we didn’t want to be disturbed. You thought it was no big deal, but to me that was a huge slap in the face. You can have your privacy, but I don’t get mine? Typical.

There are many other reasons I no longer wish to live with you. From leaving piles of dishes in the sink for weeks at a time until I finally had to do them, but then also wanting to complain how “disgusting” the apartment was at least once a week. After the third time, I refused to continue having to do that. If you wanted to let them pile up, so be it. I was not going to continue to be the only one having to do the dishes. So what did you do then? You would complain about how dirty the place was and then go straight to your room and not come out for the rest of the day. And if you did clean, all you did was spray and vacuum the carpet, leaving everything else untouched… old store ads still thrown all over the couch and coffee table, dishes still in the sink, and you just can’t seem to get all of those shit stains out from the carpet under the table that your dog oh-so graciously left for you. Need I mention the tub? I don’t know how it could look like that after every time you showered. After just one time of having to clean it out so I could shower I was done. Now THAT was disgusting. It looked like you hadn’t cleaned it in weeks, but it was only after one wash. After just one time of having to clean your shower mess I decided never again, that was a job for you to do. And since that was the case, it stayed like that for weeks at a time. And you only just recently started keeping it clean once you discovered I was “tired of your shit”. Which I find that whole situation to be a load of bull. You and I both know how you really found that out. And if someone really did tell you, well hats off to them… but I don’t believe that one bit. On the bright side, you’ve actually started cleaning up after yourself. So bravo. On the other hand, you refuse to talk to me… I really don’t care about that though. I don’t want to talk to you either. But if you want me to tell you when you do something I don’t like, don’t you think you should do the same? Which brings me to another note…

THE REASON I WILL NOT TELL YOU WHEN YOU IRRITATE THE PISS OUT OF ME. Because I tried once. And because it’s you, you threw it right back in my face. You see, one of the times you were complaining about how disgusting the apartment was, I actually spoke up and told you how I didn’t like that you kept saying that. How I did not like the use of that word and how it made me feel, which was very hard for me to do since I can’t stand any form of confrontation.

“Well it is disgusting. I can’t live like this.”

Those were the words that came out of your mouth the exact moment after I told you that I DID NOT APPRECIATE YOU SAYING THAT. And in that moment, I decided I could not longer go to you if I had a problem with something you’ve said or done.

So, if this is how you want to live, it will be a fun six or seven months, depending on how you want to count this out. But, let it be known, I will NOT be resigning the lease. I will not go living another year with you.I have noticed my mistake and I have to live with it at least until September, and then you can have all this to yourself. Or you can get another roommate, since two bedrooms would be too much for you (or even I) to afford on your own. I’m not sure what you’ll do when September comes since your dad moved and your mom already lived in a different state. But whatever you decide to do, it will no longer include me. Have a fun rest of your life, hope you make the best of it. Sorry it had to end this way, but as you’ve said…

…I can’t live like this.