I'm nine months clean today.

I can’t believe it’s been this long since I’ve been high. It feels like it’s been so much shorter. Like yesterday I was scratching at myself. Banging my wrists in my room mates bed. hearing Kevin cry. 

I’m about to face the hardest few weeks of my life, as September brings the year mark of the rock bottom of my addiction and the miscarriage. But I know I can get through it. I’m stronger now. I have my own two feet to stand on. 

stayspeckled-pink asked:

dear dad

dear dad,
you’re sick. and disgusting. and i hate you. i honestly and truly hate you. i have never felt this much hatred towards any one person as i do you. do you notice how i never say “i love you” back? because that would make me a liar. i dont love you. and i cant see myself ever forgetting or forgiving what you’ve done. i hate you.

I'm reliving last September

For some reason, September likes to bring me broken friends. Last year, I spent my sanity trying to help Kevin. This year, it seems David is falling into the same path of self destruction.

Still scarred from last year’s tragedy, I don’t even know how to react. My best friend is drinking himself to death and telling me things like how he doesn’t want to be here. Or how if he died, he wouldn’t care. He just needs to be drunk, because he craves the feeling of rolling. Yet, he won’t tell me exactly it is that he is running from.

I know Bayley has a lot more insight as to why our friend is destroying himself. But I’m not Bayley, and I can’t help but worry. I can’t help but run to my phone every time it goes off in fear that David has finally crossed the line.

Part of me wants to coddle him with affection, love him every single second, but the other part wants to back off and just let him go through it. There’s nothing I can do but push him away. Especially with my reactions towards his choices lately.

I can’t help but be emotional about the fact. He’s my best friend. A constant reminder for what I have to live for. The only person who helped me through last year from day one of my crash. And he still helps me. Everyday. And I’m constantly worried that I will lose him. 

it's like my head is exploding.

I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you because of the way you treat the people who love you so unconditionally. I hate you because you flaunt everything in those who don’t deserve it’s faces. I hate you because you’re blind and stupid. I hate it because you pretend. I hate you because of everything you do and say. 

But I hate you most because I don’t hate you at all. 

I hate you most because you keep me attached by a thread. The simple thread that you keep pulling to bring me back. Because you won’t cut ties and end it properly. Because you’re a scared little boy. 

I hate you because you’re either lying to me about it all, or you’re playing games. Keeping me in arms reach when you’re lonely. 

I hate you because I’m at your beck and call. Going to you every fucking time you ask me to. Because I’m scared you’ll do something stupid. 

I hate you because you tell me I’m your best friend. But you treat me like one of the girls you keep around at night. 

I hate you, because you don’t do anything to make things better. Every reason why we broke up is still there. But we don’t see each other enough to have it shoved in our faces. 

I hate you simply because I love you. So unconditionally. But no longer as a lover. 

I hate you because you won’t let me move on. 

I hate your smile.

I hate your voice.

I hate that thing you do when you touch my face.

I hate your skin.

I hate how I feel like I’m safe beside you.

I hate it when you touch me.

I hate your eyes. And the magnetic currency they hold.

I hate your stories.

I hate your passion.

But that’s how hating someone works isn’t it? You hate someone because the love you feel is so intense. And maybe that person hurt you, or lied or cheated. Or maybe, it’s because the person is so lost and so confused, they reject the love you send. Due to disliking themselves so much. And every time you try to do something to make their day better, they throw it in your face. and you feel that your love you so generously give, is wasted. thrown away. Like it doesn’t matter. 

And it gets to the point where, your love is just being ignored. And it burns. It hurts to keep giving. But you can’t stop. To the point where it turns sour. Turns into hate.

So all in all, I don’t hate you. I love you too much. 

And that is why I hate you.

My heart, poured onto paper

I am guilty of using the words “I love you” to the point they seem watered down. But that is just who I am. Maybe it is my Borderline Personality Disorder, where I convince myself of being in love and that the person I’m with is going to be there forever, then I hate them and end up in a vicious circle. Or maybe it is the fact that I love so much, and everyone I meet, I could fall in love with anyone if I gave them five seconds of my time. 

But this boy above, I believe legitimately has all of my heart. I can’t describe this feeling. It isn’t just the overwhelming sense of wanting to support him in everything  he does and wants to do. It isn’t just the fact that he supports everything I do and accepts everything I’ve done and am. It’s got to do with the fact that he saved me, by showing life in a light I have forgot to know. And with that knew light, I picked myself out of the well I kept myself in and began to notice how beautiful the grass smells after the rain, or how peaceful starry nights are. I remembered to love life, and enjoy every day as it comes. Bad days or the best days. I’m still alive. Really alive. But most of all, he taught me to love myself.

Each day we spend together, it feels like an adventure. Whether we just sit at home watch Harry Potter, I sit in on his band practice, we hang out with my parents, we go for coffee, see friends or drive around, it all feels like its new. My senses are heightened. My face is brighter. I’m more honest. I’m easier to get along with. I’m happier. Less on edge. 

And with every inch of myself I have to thank Mitchell. Not because of everything he does for me, or how much of my mood swings he puts up with when I do have them. But for how he’s taught me to save myself. To do these things for myself. Get a job, find a goal, fall in love with no walls up. He’s shown me how to feel without being scared. 

With that, I’ve offered the only thing I have that I could give him in return. My heart. No matter how scarred and torn it is. And all the love I have in my soul. 

I could rant on forever about this. But it’s mostly a how I got to this point, and how I’ve changed since. I have no real reasons. Because I can’t give you reasons on why I love him. I can’t give you a list of things. I just know. This is it. This is forever.

I had a really good day.

I went shopping with my sister drove around for a bit. Laughed. Took pictures.

But all of a fucking second, I get sad. About… Surprise the mother fucking baby. (s)he’d be due in about two/three weeks if my math is correct. And I just can’t deal with that right now. I can’t open up about it to anybody. I can’t talk to Mitchell because well, that’s not something someone wants to hear their girlfriend talk about… I don’t Scott really wants to talk about it.. No one else really gets it. I just feel so alone about this. It’s haunting me.

Especially because this is the only thing that’s really wrong in my life… And I know what’s triggering it..this bed… These sheets… Talking to Scott.. The date…

Just swallow it back, take the meds, throw a smile on, and fight the urge to cry. I got through it, I got past it. Right? I got over it..

Just pull it together Brittany. You got this..l