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When my blood pressure gets really high and the chest pain becomes too much, I think a lot about death. About what I’m wasting the remains of my health on. I think I’m gonna die without knowing what it’s like to really matter to anyone else.

Covid is really isolating. He’s the only person I know IRL who is still taking it seriously. Being queer and not covid-ignorant in a small town leaves me with no supports. But I can’t leave because my kid is here. My options are to be alone in a world that is becoming increasingly hostile toward...

I don’t think he hurts me on purpose. I think he hurts me to avoid dealing with his own stuff. I think I’ve likely done the same to him. I withdraw, too, just never for days and days like he does, and I don’t come back with nothing to say. I come back after I’m okay again and am ready to talk...

Guy reads my journal when I’m sleeping and monitors my activity on here, but I’m supposed to feel bad for checking his Instagram (from my own phone) to see who else he’s seeking attention from when he’s ignoring me for days on end after hurting me. I feel pathetic, sure, but I didn’t do anything...

Now he’s playing victim. Hurts me in bed, ignores me when I say no and stop, blames me for it, punishes me for it, but he’s the victim. This is how he avoids responsibility for his choices. Every time. By telling me I’m at fault. That I deserve it. I don’t do that when I hurt him. I actually...

Work is slow today. I should be using the time to work on my performance appraisal that’s due by Friday. Can’t focus on it, though. My head hurts. My chest is pounding. I can’t stop crying. I don’t know what I did to deserve this life.

This false narrative he pushes, that the abuse I’ve endured is the cause of most of our issues, has forced that abuse to be front and centre in everything. I don’t get a break from it. He gets to not think about it and go on with his day within minutes of avoiding accountability and reminding me...

Two years of being overwhelmed by him during sex and the whole time he’s been blaming my sexual trauma for it. Telling me I just need to work more on myself. I just need to be more confident. Making me feel not good enough, less than, when this is a pain point in nearly every adhd relationship...

He ignored me for 8 days after yelling at me for not being active enough during sex while I was in a neck brace. First he ignored me when I said what he was doing was hurting, then he told me I was just too lazy in bed and it was my fault I had to stop. Then I had to let a stranger touch me the...

I’m not lazy or bad in bed. Lack of intimacy is actually one of the more common reasons that adhd relationships end. I can’t be exciting enough for someone who needs the activity to change every minute or so and who has been using porn to dopamine mine for decades. Not without making it...

When I had pink hair, he told me he didn’t like it. That I shouldn’t dye it again. And so I didn’t. Before we ever even met, I was making myself less for him.

Everything hurts. Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Feels like I’ve spent the last 20 years waiting for the people I love to stop running and numbing. Using their refusal to grow as an excuse to not grow myself. Living with people who avoid reality is suffocating. You can’t have genuine conversations. Nothing ever changes. I’m not ready to give...

*some things have changed. I’m working about 3 times as much as I was working 6 months ago. I’m stretching myself thinner and getting less and less healthy, all to hold onto a job that pays for a life I don’t get to enjoy.

Got in shit at work today. For something I screwed up in March. Checked my journal to see what was happening in my life at the time. Could’ve written the journal entries this week. Nothing’s changed in 6 months, except that the mistakes I keep making while dissociating are catching up with me...

I feel like I might as well be a robot. I could work and make people cum and have no annoying needs to be ignored and dismissed in between.

More tired and sad today than numb. Arms feel heavy and bruised. Can’t concentrate on work. I miss him. I want him to want to stay, but I can’t trust it. It hurts too much each time he tells me he’s leaving. I can’t keep hearing it.

I thought not being alone would make life easier. That two adults sharing the responsibilities would be better than handling them all on my own. But I just ended up with more weight on my shoulders, instead of less, and I buckled under it. Watching him read and nap and play video games while I’m...

Two years ago I was a different person. I was happy. My daughter was happy. We had a good relationship. I was healthy. I slept regularly. I ate a varied diet. I exercised every day. I took my dog for walks. I went for bike rides. My skin looked better. I had energy. I felt good about myself. I...

Numbing myself and dissociating feels like the only way to make living somewhat bearable right now. When I start to feel comfortable and try to surface, I’m just overwhelmed by the chaos. I feel like a ghost in this house. I can only interact with select parts of it, and only under select...

Lost track of how many meltdowns I’ve had this week. I think it’s 4. Maybe 5. Nothing’s okay. My weekend just disappeared. Didn’t do anything I wanted to with it. I don’t feel like my life is mine. There’s nothing left for me once I’ve done everything else I’m supposed to do.

Started a letter to my daughter. She’s 14. I just want to leave. To not be in pain anymore. I don’t know how to minimize the impact on her. How to make sure she knows it’s not her fault, that she couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. This is where I get stuck each time. I’m so tired...

I don’t want to get up. I’m just lying here hoping I finally have a heart attack so I can stop trying.

Not enough sleep for the second night in a row means I’m falling apart before I even get up. Stomachache, headache, high blood pressure, higher than usual anxiety. But can’t call in sick or anything because I have a meeting with my boss today. Always just have to push through, knowing the whole...

He told me I needed space after sex didn’t work out, then ran away upstairs, took over the bedroom and fell asleep. Wasn’t about what I needed at all. I needed to not be punished and ditched for ending it.