Posts Tagged ‘late night confessions


Again/last night

I know I word vomited already last night but I have a confession…


Decided to end the evening with a six pack and some team bonding. With a few minor bumps it was actually a really good night. One of those bumps being I made a comment to my team member that probably should of stayed in my head, even though I meant it. I have a tendency of doing that lately. I want to be supportive of expressing myself and being honest, but it’s conflicting because I care too. I suppose I just need to find a way to word things, which I’m usually good at. I guess alcohol has a rushed affect on my words.

The second bump, brace yourselves people. I texted Phoenix my ex, and instagram creeped. I KNOW I know, it violates the rules and at the end of the day only causes myself pain. Let me explain:

Me and two other teammates were outside until the wee hours of the morning listening to music, star gazing and talking. We were all kind of cuddled up as there was a cool breeze every now and then. It was obvious though that one of them only wanted to cuddle with the other (the other is not me incase you didn’t get that), it made me lonely. It made me miss intimacy. I wanted to be held, desired. I just didn’t want to feel alone. Which made me think of Phoenix.

I’ve come to the conclusion also that I often think of her so much because she was my last relationship, not so much her. When I find myself missing intamcy or something love wise, I think about her because she was my last reference. Why is this important?  Because it doesn’t mean I can’t let HER go, it means I can’t let the relationship go, relationships.

Anyway, so at some point I went in the house and left the other two outside. As I crept in bed I wondered if she was being intimate or had someone to be intimate with, so I went on her page. I didn’t really find anything but I do suspect there’s someone (not that that’s important). After, I texted her…

“You’ll always be the one that hot away”

Yes I said hot instead of got -_________- I don’t really know what prompted that one to be honest. I really don’t want to over analyze it. I hadn’t really had the thought that it was the relationship I craved and not her; so I’m sure last night I really did think she was the one that got away… and who knows, maybe she is.

So I think I’ll stick to blogging for my late night chats as opposed to actually expressing what I’m feeling and thinking. Seems safer doesn’t it?



So I’m sitting here scrolling through my phone trying to decide who I could text or call. Trying to decide who I want to reach out to, who can digest what I need to say and not hold it against me, or think differently of me. See my problem is by the time I’ve picked someone to talk to and explained to them what I’m feeling; well by then I’m over it. I’ve already rationalized the situation or dismissed or assumingly told myself the same thing they would. So normally,  I just don’t reach out.

But if I am to be quite frank, sometimes I don’t reach out because once I have, there’s no taking it back. It’s out there and I have to deal with it.

There’s something that I need to talk about and I don’t want to talk to anyone. But it’s eating at me (no pun intended,  you’ll see why later). I won’t dive into to much detail as I’d like to keep this post under a certain word count, thereby holding me accountable so there won’t be much rambling and I’ll get to the point.

Recalling all of the things that I’ve been through in my 23 years of life, it would be easy to say I was mentally unstable or had issues so to speak, almost certain. Sometimes I feel like there should be something wrong me. But I’ve learned in begining this self loving journey, that my only problem is me and what I think should be my problem, ha go figure. So as I bring up this subject (which if we’re looking at my word count I should have already brought up), keep in mind I’m fully aware, I don’t suffer from any real disorder.

I am 5″3 and 133lbs. I know I’m not fat. I know I’m not overweight. I know that I am beautiful and I should want someone who wants me just the way I am. I have enough people who desire me to know my worth(not that people desiring me determines my worth). I’m confident, spend 10 minutes with me and that’s evident. I don’t fear rejection and I know what my secret weapons are.

Despite knowing all of this, I struggle with my weight. I don’t think I’m skinny enough, I could be a little taller to balance out my tummy, I could be a bit firmer and perhaps more tone in certain areas. I could also put in the work to achieve those things, with the exception of being taller (actually if I corrected my posture I could probably fix that too). I know everyone sees there imperfections, our generation obsesses over it actually. I know none of these things make me stand out. I also know I have the power to change the things I don’t like about myself, body included.

I know I’m rambling, forgive me if you keep reading.

I am a control freak, but I have no control over my eating habits. I’m an emotional eater. Please step inside my head for a moment, let me show you.

Food brings me comfort, it gives me this sort of power. Why shouldn’t I be able to have whatever I want whenever I want it. Today I woke up and said I’m gonna fast and then an hour later I ate. (Every now and then I go on a 3 – day water clense where I only consume water for 72 hours) it’s beneficial both mentally and physically. I haven’t been able to fully complete a fast in months. I just don’t seem to posses the self discipline lately.

SIDE NOTE: I’m over this already, this post I mean, right in the middle and I already want to delete it. I want none of these words to exist and I want to pretend I’m fine. This is typically what happens once I start talking to someone. This would normally be the point where I would offer my own advice and solve my own problem and change the subject by asking the person something about themselve. But I’m gonna keep writing, I’m gonna push through; I know I’m way over my word count at this point, but who really reads my blogs anyway. It’s for me and I’m gonna utilize the space fully and completely. But if for some universe forsaken reason you’re still reading this, I do sincerely apologize.

I eat when I’m happy. I eat when I’m sad. I eat when I’m bored. I eat out of frustration because I’m not working out. Hell, I eat after a workout because I feel like I deserve a reward. I find reasons to eat like a cheater finds reasons to be out of the house. Now eating isn’t bad, if I snacked on carrots or rice and crackers all day then whoopi do. It’s not fruits crackers and rice though, it’s sweets. I’ve got a sweet tooth worse than Willie Wonka from the chocolate factory.

I have a sweet tooth and no self control.
I think fasting is my way of being a controlled anorexic, but I fail at even that.

To be honest, I’ve forgotten where I’m going with this and as much as I would have liked to end this with a point I just don’t think it’s going to happen…

I want to be something and the only reason I’m not is because of me… tell me something I don’t know.

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