I Can Always Kill Myself. That's The Only Comforting Thought I Have.

i needed that praise- i needed you ten years ago. i learned how to live with a present but absent father, i learned how to live with the years of emotional abuse and pain, i learned that nothing i can do is ever right or enough.

i don’t need you now, it’s too little too late. leave me the fuck alone.

i did the “safe space” emdr coping mechanism w my trauma therapist today and i literally just used a spare room in the men of letters bunker. like i didn’t have a real life safe space to imagine, so i had to think of a fake safe space, and i couldn’t think of anything safer.

thank you spn, for always being my home.

i will never admit this fact to anyone ever, the internet can know tho.

it’s been two already, i wish i could hate him. i wish i could cry or do anything other than thwart the urges to find him and beg for him back in my life. he was bad to me, for so long. why can’t i hate him?

I see many Neopagans who are unable to separate themselves from Christian ideas of "Grace" in that divine favor or blessings are something that are bestowed upon or withheld from you for a specific reason or as a reward or punishment, when that is not at all how ancient peoples thought about the Gods and their Providence.

Providence is, simply, the goodness of the Gods emanating outward, flowing out naturally from them to all corners of the world to each according to their individual ability to receive it. Providence is a spring that overflows and reaches all indiscriminately, unlimited and eternal.

The key here is our individual ability to receive it. If you don't notice the water flowing all around you, you go thirsty, and if you don't have a sufficient vessel for collecting it, you will only get tiny handfuls of water at a time. Blessings are received when we make ourselves a suitable vessel for them: We make ourselves more receptive to their goodness by improving ourselves through piety and cultivating virtue.

This is an attitude that I don't find very often in Neopagan spaces: Far too many people are preoccupied with offending the Gods, as if such a thing were possible, and being "cursed" or "abandoned" by them, when in reality the Gods are everywhere: There is nowhere that they cannot be, no corner of the universe that they do not reach. To fret about whether the Gods will curse or punish you is to wonder if the water from that spring won't like you: The question is silly, just drink when you're thirsty.

Providence is something we are solely responsible for making ourselves more receptive to: Anything else is superstition and latent Christianity.

8.26.22

The Empty Kind. (excerpt)

“…I wish I didn’t burn every bridge I’ve ever stood on, now all I breathe is smoke.”

i wish i still had michael. right now he would let me talk about the weight of the world that is currently squeezing the life out of my very lungs- until i physically could no longer keep my eyes open and it turned some ungodly hour of the night. he would hear my deepest darkest fears, he would hear how i have to face them to make the right decision, he wouldn’t make me do it alone like i currently have to. he would stand outside in the rain, or pick me up a pint of ice cream from three hours away, or just take me on a drive into utter oblivion. he would let me lay my head on his lap in the backseat of his car, or he’d help me grab a blanket to go stare at the stars, and he wouldn’t complain about how my tears are soaking into his clothes yet again when he finally coaxed me to talk about it all.

he would stand by me until i felt like i could stand on my own again.

i hate this. i cant do this on my own. i don’t have anyone who could let me talk this out in the way that i need to. i don’t even know what i would say, but with him the words would just tumble straight from my heart right out of my mouth.

i need that safe space, i don’t know how to ask someone to do that- i don’t even know if you could.

i’m obviously sad how hard would it be to say you love me, or maybe try sending something to cheer me up? anything?

8.7.24 excerpt-

“and a large part of me is dead too, lying there with your ashes in the mahogany box”

:/ both splitting on people and stockholm syndrome are so fucking stupid. i want to rip my ribs off one by one and throw my heart at the wall and just watch it splatter.