naked truths

Hello. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Just not really sure what to say. I’ve been trying to figure out what to write and how to portray myself. Which, is strange, I know, because this is my own blog. I’m trying to be as transparent as possible; which, again, is for my own good. But I’m also afraid. How can I post online the things I’m too scared to admit out loud?

On this blog, I have introduced myself over and over again. Through my About Me page, various poems, articles — nothing seems to be enough. Why do I keep trying to define myself? I have so many answers but I crave more.

This post will be hard truths. Naked truths.

Thank you for reading.

• I’ve started to bite my nails again because I’m anxious all the time.
• It gives me something to do in the moment, but when I have a panic attack, I have nothing to cling on.
• To clarify: I scratch myself sometimes or clench my fists really tight so my nails cut into my skin. The pain grounds me.
• It’s not self-harm if I don’t bleed, right?
• Describing anxiety is difficult.
• I can’t breathe.
• I feel trapped.
• I’m tumbling down a neverending staircase.
• It really fucking pisses me off when people pretend to understand or belittle what I’m feeling.
• I wish I were prettier.
• I feel invalidated.
• I miss my dad.
• Today, I had a panic attack in the bathroom but I didn’t tell anyone because they always respond with “I’m sorry,” and I can’t be fixed.
• I wish my boyfriend liked Thai food. It’s the only part of Thai culture that still resonates with me. I don’t want to lose that.
• I don’t want to feel anything anymore. Nothing nothing nothing.
• Feelings: numbness, sadness, guilt, sleepy, tired, shaky, uncertain, unsteady, lonely, lost. Unsatisfied.
• My therapist talks too much about herself.
• I get urges to starve myself sometimes. So, if I’m weak, it will be because of a lack of food and not because I was up crying all night.
• For someone who talks about dying a lot, I’m actually scared of death. Where do we go?
• I don’t think that I will ever be enough.
• I don’t know why I make my own standards so high. I know that people love me. I know that they think I’m enough. Why do I still feel this way?
• I really want to take sleeping pills but I sort of overdosed and the doctor said I can’t anymore. Also, I’m on my way to liver failure.
• I want to love myself but I don’t know how.