I Wonder If This Is Common: As A Kid I Would Lose All Emotions For Periods Of Weeks Or Even Months, I

"Don't see yourself as a victim"

Oh, I'm sorry, do you think I was a fucking volunteer?

a mess

Send in your confessions here, please specify they are confessions.

A message to you:

You’re pushing me away and I don’t know what to do. I care about you, I always have and I always will. Do you, do you care about me? You say you do, but then you ignore me. “I’m that way with everyone” you say, but there you are laughing, having a thirty minute conversation with another. When I try to talk to you, you barely respond; you brush me off. You’re someone I thought I’d know forever, but there you go slipping away from me. Although I’m fully capable, I don’t understand and I don’t think I ever will - because you’ll never tell me. Inseparable one minute, barely talking the next; oh, how the times change. I’d do anything to help you, and I’ve proven that. Once things got better for you, do you leave behind the ones who have helped you in the process? Is that what this is? You should surely be able to clear this up, but you won’t.

I’ve hurt my self to help you. I’ve made sacrifices to be there for you. Is that not enough? Is wanting what’s best for someone 24/7 not enough? I never asked for anything in return but honesty. This is didn’t even get.

So it’s been almost a month since you last texted me first to talk. And I realized that I shouldn’t have to question if you still want to be my friend or not. So our friendship is in your hands. Take care of it or don’t; I don’t care anymore. I love you and I’ll miss you and our close friendship but I’ve learned where I hold myself as a person. And I will never beg for someone’s attention, I will never force a friendship, and I will never keep myself in a toxic one-sided relationship. I’ve made the effort, now it’s your turn. I’ve shown you that I care, prove to me you do too. Nurture our friendship back to good health, if I really mean that much to you like you say.

I care too much about people. People take advantage of this. I get used; my feelings abused. Hopefully you won’t do the same.

There’s a chance you’ll see this but a very strong one you won’t (I assume you don’t pay attention to me as much as I do to you). If you do see this, you’ll know this is about you. I want you to see this, in fact I’ll be happy if you do.

Do what you want; it’s your life. But don’t you ever say I was the one who drifted away from you or that I was never there for you. I was, however you wernt. I still want to be friends, but a friendship can’t work if it’s only one way. At the end of the day, if you wanted to be my friend, you’d be acting like it.

- Your “Friend”

this lil baby got a better walk than kendull jenner, jello hadid, boring hadid and karmichael kloss and that’s the tea on that

i mean it’s not like i spend every hour consciously saying “i hate myself.” it’s just that when things go wrong my first response is “of course” “i deserve this” “this is because i suck.” if someone asked me “do you like who you are” i’d be stuck. i don’t feel like i’m 13 and emo anymore, but i kept the sidebangs. i feel weird saying things like “i’m a burden and waste of space” but i feel like that. just maybe not in those words. it’s just like i swell too big for the area. like i splash over the sides, a party foul, the spilled drink. i mean how extra would it be to say something like “i don’t like myself enough to keep living”. doesn’t that just cause other people pain. doesn’t that just make people worry. but on the other hand i’m stuck because i feel numb, vague, blurry. like i should evaporate. like i do nothing but cause people distress when i should be helping. like okay. i don’t hate hate myself. but if the car was coming i wouldn’t get out of the way in a hurry.

BoJack, I don’t like..anything about me. None of this is me. What am I supposed to do? I don’t know what to do. Am I doomed? Are you doomed? Are we all d o o m e d?

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?