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My Daddy Issues use to get to me Regularly

On the night of December 5th, 2009, I cried in my mother's arms as I repeatedly said: “it’s not fair,”. To this day I still find it unfair. He was my dad. He is my dad. He was taken from me. God stole him from me before he even had the chance to see me grow. All day I have felt as if someone has been standing over my shoulder and I can’t help but think it's him and it hurts. It all hurts. I keep looking over my shoulder. I didn’t even think about the date until today. I was just going on with my day then all the sudden I realized it was December 4th and it hit me. Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow marks eight years. I thought about it a little on the 3rd, but I felt nothing. Today I felt it. The unfairness. I know God has a plan and I know he only gives us tasks we can handle but this task is painful. It’s gut-wrenching. It hurts on a whole new level. I want my dad. I really want my dad. I miss him so much. It hurts. And it’s not fucking fair. // Originally wr...
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Shower Thought I

When I was younger and I was upset or stressed, my parents would make me take a shower. No explanation, just "Go take a shower Aby." And with that, I would head to the bathroom and take a shower. It was magical. I would step out and everything was different. There was nothing that could make me upset, nothing to stress about. The shower washed away everything. I wish it was that easy now. Anytime I get into the shower now, all I can think about is how high the water bill is going to be if I stay in there for a long period of time. The stress and worry and emotions don't wash down the drain anymore. They stick to me. They make my head pound. When did I become an adult? I'll be nineteen this year. My life is just starting and I'm already so stressed. When I was in elementary school, a kid was super excited because it was his "special" birthday. Special as in he was turning ten and his birthday was on the tenth of whatever month we were in. It's my ...
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I hate...

I hate when you think things are going good and turns out they aren't. I thought my first day in apparel went great but obviously not. I tried my best. I was trying to take in everything. I didn't want to blow through anything because I didn't want to do anything wrong. I even asked questions and I never do that. It's so infuriating that someone would say something about my work ethic. They know nothing about me. NOTHING. I've literally been around this group of people for less than 12 hours and they think they know everything about me. They said my work ethic was bad and I didn't do anything but stand around and that I won't last long. That's a fucking load. I want to cry. I've had shit thoughts all day. Thoughts of cutting and watching as the blood runs down my thighs. The slight sting of the cut. Damn, I want to fucking cry. I hate that the receptors in my nervous system don't properly intake the serotonin that is released. I hate it so muc...
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