Raw

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Hands tense, gripping what they can. Trying to stand tall but everything is crumbling.

Heavier weights to try numb the even heavier pain.

But it’s falling away. It’s being ripped away.

It hurts. Oh it god damn hurts.

The pounding starts. The voices come running. Whispers turn into screams.

Walls back up but still spiralling downwards. One step forward yet five leaps back.

Lift even heavier. Push through the pain. It helps the hurt.

But why does it still hurt?

Tears stinging. Why is it still so raw?

I’ll never see him again but why am I scared that it might happen accidentally?

How did one person take away all my strength? All my confidence? All my self-worth? Why did he have to take it, just to have sex with me for a few months?

I can’t do it right now. I can’t fix myself right now. Somebody please pick me up because I really can’t stand on my own right now. Anyone. Please.

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Shit Happens

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I know I did nothing wrong. I know that sometimes you simply aren’t going to be the right person for someone but god, do I feel like a fool. Last night I wished I could say with conviction that it was his loss and yet I couldn’t.

His words have been such a contradiction to his actions and I simply feel like an idiot for thinking he liked me. I do believe he’s a nice, genuine guy and we probably could have been friends if we met in different circumstances. It might not have been his intentions but I feel like a glorified fuck buddy.

9 weeks ago, I removed my links to my blog from my social media, you know?

I was embarrassed. Okay, well maybe not embarrassed about my blog but more so that I was worried about presenting myself as broken. I removed my website from my profiles and stopped sharing links with the corresponding pictures on Twitter and Instagram. I stopped sharing my journey because I was scared of how a boy might accidentally stumble across chapters of my story without me realising.

Some of my previous posts about my recovery have been brutally honest but the hard truths are what help us recover the most. I suppose that whilst I happily share my journey with the world I still have that fear that when I like someone they won’t like the girl who’s been a little bit broken and battered along the way.

I did mention my ED to him but only briefly. However, that took so much strength. Strength I only found because he gave the impression he liked me. That’s what hurts right now. The fact I stupidly opened up to someone who didn’t see anything in me. I feel as though I’ve let my guard down and that I should have known better.

Wish I would stop stumbling across nice guys who accidentally mess me around.

You know what though?

Shit happens.

And I am never deliberately hiding my story ever again.

24 hours later and I genuinely believe I’m over him. The reason why it’s happened so quick? Because I have a group of badass friends who picked up the phone last night and convinced me to go to them. I travelled across the country late at night and spent all of today with them…still in the clothes I wore to our ‘date’ last night!

Thanks to him I’m going to be even more wary of guys than I was when I met him but also thanks to him, I got to see my absolute bestest who I didn’t get to see this Christmas. I got to see the two newborns of the group as well as their amazing mums who are even better best friends to me.

I got to spend the day with my favourite 3 people with endless cups of tea, biscuits and baby cuddles. So much laughter and a few tears were shed about how, once more, I’ve been messed around but there truly weren’t as many tears as I thought there would be.

Right now, less than 24 hours later I can say with conviction…it’s his loss, not mine. 

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