no hard feelings my dude

I mean it is perfectly normal to hate one’s ex after a nasty break up. But I don’t believe a human being is truly capable of hating someone whom they once loved. Maybe someone out there is, but not me. I was hurt, I turned to hard drugs to numb the pain after loosing someone who was part of my life for over 5 years, both romantically and as a friend. I live in a fairly small town, and hang out in a scene where everyone goes to the same bars, coffee shops, and shows so running into him was unavoidable. It especially sucked when he began dating someone two weeks later. Everyone has a void to fill, I filled mine with heroin, he filled his with a crazy bitch who was nothing like me.


The break-up affected me so much. There were a lot of variables, but I believe that it was having an abortion that made me go insane for a couple of years. I am still recovering. I got pregnant March of 2016, I was irresponsible, we were irresponsible and it happened after years of unprotected sex. I was terrified, I needed him to be there for me, and he was, physically, but not emotionally. When I asked him what he thought he should do, he took the easy way out. “It’s your body, and your decision”. He then added that he thought it would be very difficult for us to raise a child, but he would support whatever choice I made. What a fucking cop out. I didn’t even realize how fucked his reaction was in that moment. So yes, I had an abortion, it was traumatic, and I still hate myself every day for it, and wonder what it would’ve been like to be a mother. But so it goes…. But that horrible experience thought me to be more strong willed.

So shout out to my ex, last name Hertz. Thanks for fun drunken nights. Thanks for believing in my art. Thanks for filling me with inspiration. When I was with you I felt like I could take on anything.I hope that one day we can be friends again, but who knows? I know he has big things coming. Keep working hard kiddo, you’re an amazingly smart and talented person. Just don’t forget about the people that love you along the way. I would hate to see you get to the top, alone. You deserve someone that challenges you and keeps it real. I think I challenged you for a long time, but I was too soft. Sorry I didn’t keep it real, that’s changed, I’m a straight up bitch now. Thanks for that too.

I do miss the letters you used to write me, and the long walks. Wish you the best my dude.



  1. No food or drinks, except water before 10am and after 6pm.
  2. Drink two glasses of water before a meal, one glass after a meal.
  3. Chew each bite 37 times each.
  4. Drink one glass of water every hour to keep full.
  5. Drink green tea with no sugar to repress appetite.
  6. Chew on ice or sugar free gum when hungry.
  7. Brush teeth often to keep from eating.
  8. Use smaller plates and utensils, use darker color plates.
  9. Make a list of bad and safe foods, only eat safe foods.
  10. Weigh yourself every day.
  11. Keep a weigh and food log and carry it with you.

I found this in a journal that I kept last summer and spring, along with a detailed food log and a copy of my calendar, showing both miles ran every day and foods consumed with amount and category (starch, protein, complex/simple carb).

No wonder I passed out while running in the middle of summer. I am posting this because my eating disorder is active again, and even though I am going to therapy once a week, I can’t stop obsessing.

Dealing with repressed memories of trauma has me going back to unhealthy coping mechanisms. I self harmed for the first time in several years, and I’m shooting up again. I’m ashamed to wear short sleeves and skirts because there are deep cuts on my wrists and track marks on my arms, there are bruises and cuts on my legs.

This isn’t a cry for help. I am doing everything  I can to get better. I go therapy for all of mental health issues, I am religiously taking my 225mg dose of Effexor err day.

The art is going well and I’ve been watching amazing films. Going to Mexico in a couple of weeks, maybe the sunshine will save me. Or I’ll drown myself in a pool of tequila or a salty ocean. Doesn’t that sound lovely? It will be nice to forget who I have to be in real life for ten days.

Girl, In Progress~ Triggering Narrative~

Background noise buried inside.

I awake from a daydream, rhythmically tapping my foot.

Exposure therapy, I’ve read about it, sounds unpleasant.

I don’t quite like the sound of it.

But I am tired of the nightmares.

Fragments of tender legs, gray school uniform with knee high white socks.

You know? The ones with the white bow in the front.

The hand of a child does not belong in familial crevices of pale flesh

they lay, tucked away out of reach for a reason. I thought…

It burns, it hurts, but I like the ache.

Drenched in sweat, strands of hair sticking to the back of my neck.

The faint taste of his favorite whiskey floods my taste buds.

And my very first secret was born that night.

The smell of shame lingers, something I learned before I mastered

the art of conversation.

The mind remembers smells before words.

And it still hurts, but I like the ache, I like the ache and it isn’t my fault.





Manic Depressive Laughing Girl (ode to modest mouse song)


lying to myself and everyone around me every time they ask if I’m okay. Smile and nod and keep walking.

we are all trash

swallowing childhood secrets

every day, before bed

when I’m alone and no one can see me

i close my eyes

i let  darkness reach my fingertips


the empty pill bottles pile up

and my mental health follows me around

like a lost puppy

hungry for fresh tears

and manic depressive episodes


two vessels

swimming together

confusing dreams with reality

pharmaceuticals falling from the sky




reoccurring kind (bad habits)


I am much too comfortable sitting on my checkered kitchen floor. As I edit my writing, I can’t help but review the history of past love affairs. Very briefly, I consider hand writing apologies and mailing them out to all of my lovers, to all the ones I hurt. But that would take too long. So I pour out more wine and flip the record to pass the time. One of my favorite sounds in the world is the 5 seconds before the first song starts on a vinyl. The reoccurring swoosh. One revolution, two revolutions, three revolutions and Custom Concern by Modest Mouse comes on. I feel as though my body no longer belongs to me. As I inject the nectar of blooming flowers into the violet corridors that make up the veins of my left arm. These violent affairs leave behind silent regrets.











I gave you flowers because who doesn’t love getting flowers???

Men like flowers too.


Thank you for the long car rides and the Modest Mouse vinyl you got me just because I told you it was one of my favorites.

I guess I’m not used to being around people who listen.