Masturbation…. A Treatment or a Cause of Hysteria

Hysteria has a long and complex origin. Treatments have varied from masturbation to completely removing the clit. In this short piece, I go over the two very extremes in brush strokes.

Opening The Can

I start and stop. Start and stop. Write then quit. Draft after draft. 100 words are written, and 100 words are deleted. How much more until I just give up. I have so much I want to say but just as much doubt, hatred, and exhaustion. Doubt in my abilities to share my thoughts. Hatred

Attachment to Broken Men: The Golden Boy

Attachment to Broken Men is a series I started where I dive into the men from my past, and I analyze how they have affected and shaped who I am today. This will be the third instalment but not the last. Overall, The Golden Boy is different. At the time that I am writing this,

Drowning in my own ambitions

Stay busy. Write. Read. Play video games. Date. Hang out with friends. Be the world’s best cat mom. Study to be a better nurse. Study to learn more. Study to feel like you are smart and that you belong. Strive for better. Be better. Just be better. I have spent the last four years striving

I am not okay

**The first paragraph has a few hyperlinks. These are only if you are interested in other blog postings that relate to the sentence I wrote, where the link is located.** I haven’t written for the blog in over two months. That doesn’t mean that I don’t spend every single day thinking about this blog. I

The Glorification of Abuse in Media

Over the last few years, I began noticing how society communicates within itself. I noted how much murder, crime, violence, and sex are glorified. What caught me the most off guard is the glorification of abuse. I can and will, at the bottom of this post, name just a few movies and TV shows that,

Journey into Therapy

This post will be written over the next couple of weeks. It will look into the process of not only receiving but experiencing therapy here in the USA. This first part will look into the process of getting therapy. Once my appointment date comes and goes, I will post this. After that I will begin

Validate me

Growing up, I never had any social media. The only social media I had was Facebook, made when I was eight, and a Snapchat. Personally, I do not count Snapchat. I used it more for texting than anything else. It was not until recently that I began posting on my story. It was not until

Why am I less than Human?

A couple years back, I sat myself down and realized I needed to change. I began seeking help. Help outside of friends and family. Help outside of myself. The only person who knew I was seeking any type of professional assistance was my now ex-boyfriend. I never told anyone else and, to this day, still

Stories from Night Shift: Entitlement of the Karens

Most people know that if you work a customer service job, you will inevitably run into a Karen. It is impossible not to. I had yet to realize how common it would be to find myself battling a wild, angry Karen at 2,3, or even 4 in the morning. It is an alarming amount of

Attachment to Broken Men: The catalyst

As I previously explored in the first installment of “Attachment to Broken Men”, my relationship to men has never been healthy nor productive. In continuing this series, I have decided to explore my past relationships in a meaningful way to learn from these experiences and maybe one day change for the better. Instead of beginning

Wallowing in Sorrow

I never believe in saying that because I had particular life struggles, I understand everyone who has struggles. This is not the case and will never be the case. Everyone has their problems and reactions to their problems. However, how someone treats their issues and struggles defines how I see them in my head. What

Stories from Night Shift: Part 1

I never questioned it or my actions. When I went inside and told my coworker what happened, I was met with a natural fluid motion. No hesitation. Housekeeping understood immediately, and a whistle was brought out in seconds. Then I was left on my own. When they asked me personal information, the lies about my engagement flowed out my mouth as natural as can be. This should not be the case. I should not be this well trained to handle inappropriate old men. I wonder at what age do girls start to pick up on these cues. When does it become second nature to defend ourselves? When do we become conditioned this way?

Shattered

Every day I wake up and put on a smile, a hollow, defeated smile. This becomes almost ritualistic. Nothing changes. Everything stays relatively the same. Each morning I follow a routine. Wake up, reply to everyone on my phone, dance around my room, and drink my coffee. I am continuously on my phone messaging people

Where were you?

Where were you? Where were you when I needed you the most? When I was spending every night crying myself to sleep, why were you not there? Why did you give up on me? Why did you find it funny watching yourself collapse? Why was it funny watching us destroying ourselves? I know you had

Growing past nightmares

Every night like clockwork, I have nightmares. No matter how many times I wake up and fall back to sleep, the nightmares consist. This is not new to the blog and is something I have discussed before. What I left out before was what I started a few years ago. I began writing down my

Anxiety does not have a singular form.

…do not ever invalidate someone’s emotions. The person may seem to be dramatic, extra, annoying, loner, or whatever the case may be to you, but this just might be their way of coping with emotions they do not know how to handle. Emotions that to them scare them and consume them. Your experience with anxiety is not the only experience possible.

Fading Allure

In life, both internally and externally, I care too fast and too hard. I find an interest or hobbies, and it consumes me. While this can be beneficial in learning new things quickly, the toll it takes is excruciating. Internally I find a part of myself I like, and I hyper-focus on it. I cater

My body as a weapon

Like most of the other girls, I was leaning back holding myself up with my hands. One of my male friends asked me to change positions. Said I was making him uncomfortable and making it hard for him to concentrate on what the group was saying. That’s when I notice he wasn’t speaking to me. He hadn’t taken his eyes off my boobs. I apologized and felt embarrassed. I rushed to grab my backpack and cover myself. My body once again was being a problem.

I’m sorry

In the past, I have had people come in and out of my lives. Some leaving memories behind and others leaving scars. I fear either happening again. I do not want to think back to you and only see memories. I do not want to feel like I am nothing but a moment in your

My Average is enough

When I realize that my average is enough, I accept that some days will be busier and some days more relaxed. This does not mean I have failed in any way. Instead, it says I am a normal person who gets tired. I am not supposed to have only the best days. That is impossible. My average is enough. I, at my average, am enough.

It will be okay.

Sweetheart, I know what you are doing, and I am proud. I am proud of who you are. I am proud to say you are little me. But honey… you can rest. You do not have to be perfect.

An Expert in Training

See 5 months ago, I had all these plans and expectations of what I was going to do with my new found hobby. Then I tried it, and I failed. I sucked. My roommate could not help but laugh as my fingers stumbled over the yarn and made knots where there should not have been any. That same day I started, I stopped. “My hands just are made for this. They are not steady enough.” I say this despite the fact that I have to put IV in people, have given shots, and more. These things require the exact skill I swore I need for knitting. I stopped because, in my head, I had already created fantasy land where once I picked up the string, I would be an expert.

The battle with myself

Every morning I wake up, and my hand immediately reaches down. I feel for my stomach. Is it flat today? Can I feel my ribs? How much do I need to suck in before I can? I turn to my side and feel my stomach from one side to the next. Is it flat? How

Please be patient

My mind is in its own little world. Trudging through unknown battles. I am not ignoring you and your inquires. I hear you just fine and yearn to respond. I just can’t describe to you what I am feeling. I have to practice what I wish to say. I try and speak, but words do not leave my mouth.