DIARY ENTRY 4: I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO NAME THIS.. LETS TALK

HONEEEEEYYYYY IM HOOOOOOOMEEEEEEE

hehe

After God knows how long, I have finally moved back home!!!!! I am so happy!! I get to eat mangoes and tostones everyday, enjoy the lovely weather of the DR, aka HUMIDITY (🙂🙂🙂🙂), and I get to hang out with my family and friends whenever I want to. However, this is not a catch-up blog (sorry to disappoint); I’m going to talk about something that I had a lot of time to think about.. and that is ✨HOW INSECURE I AM✨ and why ✨I CAN’T TRUST ANYONE✨ (plot twist: it isn’t just because I am a Capricorn)

We tend to bury what has scarred us and then don’t know why we act the way we do. Whenever I went to a psychologist, I didn’t understand why I felt the way I did because I had pushed what happened to me so deep inside that I didn’t remember any of it (or maybe because I didn’t trust them to tell them why).

*sigh*

Let’s go back. I had a “friend” (well, she was supposed to be my best friend) that really, truly fucked me up (yup, not censoring). I’m not trying to blame her for EVERYTHING, because I know she wasn’t the blame for everything, but she was the blame for most of it. She would make me feel bad about the way I looked. She would talk bad about me behind my back. She would criticize the way I thought. She would criticize my hair, my clothes, how I walked, how I talked, the way I laughed. She would say how I wasn’t good enough to do anything. How nobody would ever love me because of how I acted. How nobody liked me, and they just pretended to because they felt bad for me.

I believed her.

She was my best friend.

I never realized that it all started with her until now.

The thing about it is.. I thought that remembering would help me, I don’t know, realize that nothing that she said was true because she was just a bully who hated herself that much to make me feel the way I did. But I still do.

It doesn’t matter how much people tell me that I am good at something. It doesn’t matter how much people tell me that I look good. It doesn’t matter how much people tell me I’m pretty. It doesn’t matter how much people tell me they like my laugh, my voice, the way I walk. I don’t believe them, because my best friend told me I wasn’t those things. It doesn’t matter that I know that what she said wasn’t true.

(yeeessshhhh, I don’t know how to make this blog post witty after all that)

Even though I am still battling with this (and let’s be honest, so much more than just this) in a way, I am ready to open up again (to a psychologist that is) (there is no way that I am trusting other people) (yet) (probably ever) (hahahahahha) (I need help). For the first time in maybe 14+ years, I want to *actually* work on getting better, not only for myself but also for my family and friends.

I want to be excited about going out. I want to be excited about making new friends that won’t make me feel like poop; friends that will help me grow. I want to be excited about taking on new challenges without fearing that I will not be good enough. I want to be able to talk to people about me, what makes me sad, and what makes me happy; I want to open up without being scared about it. I want to be able to be emotional about anything, without fearing what others might think. I want to be able to trust myself. I want to be able to forgive myself and accept myself the way I am.

(not me crying while writing this) 

Well, that’s it.. for now.. I hope you enjoyed this sad blog post about ✨me✨ . But in all seriousness, I hope that maybe it makes you see that you’re not alone like I thought I was. I hope that if someone made/is making you feel bad, you realized/realize with time that they are just bitter and jealous. I hope that you trust yourself enough to know that you are amazing the way you are. (if only I were like this with myself) (LOL).

At least I can thank her for my fantastic sense of humor and my wittiness. hehe

I guess I can finally tell my psychologist.

Talk to you soon!