Why do I have to fuck up a good thing? Why can't I shut my fucking brain off? Why do I fucking overthink every goddamn thing? Why do I always expect the worse? Why can't I allow myself to be happy? Why do I hurt myself? WHY can't I trust love...
I hate women who stalk their men...women who go through their man's cell phone...who snoop through drawers and cabinets, who question actions all the time, who say mean things...
I do not snoop on a man, never have...I do not stalk...but do I???
am I becoming "that" woman? I am not a jealous person, I really am not...I am an INSECURE woman, I never feel like I am enough, pretty enough, nice enough, thoughtful enough, loving enough, woman enough.....
I look in the mirror, all I see is ugliness, I see nothing beautiful, nothing that could keep a man happy...in my head..I am a freak of a woman...ugly, hideous, inside and out..
This is where my head goes....I can be told over and over "you are beautiful, thoughtful, loving, etc..." and I cannot accept that...I just flat out can't accept positive reinforcement...My head tells me whatever is told to me, is a lie....something said as a pat answer, not true, just placating...
I truly am permanently damaged, just like a burn victim, my brain is a burn victim...hideously disfigured, scarred, hard...ugly...sick...
My fear of rejection is fucking all consuming...I want love, I want to know that I know that I know, I am important, I am loved, and cherished...but that will never happen...my brain is just to fucked up.....
I can't love myself...I hate myself...how do you love a freak? How do you love yourself??? shit...this is me...this is ally, this is lilly, this is all the little abused girls out there...childhood abuse, fucks a woman up...PERMANENTLY...No god can take that away...God fucking gave me abuse and suffering then sat back on his mighty fucking throne and ate popcorn and enjoyed the show.....
WELL THANK YOU VERY MUCH HEAVENLY FATHER...YOU ARE NO FATHER TO ME....I have no father...I am an island....
I've just discovered I have D.I.D. Its not easy for me or my alters. As you read these blog entries, some are by me and some are by them. Each one us expressing a moment of joy or frustration as we learn to adapt to our new life and flood of bad memories.
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the Tent
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