I’ll follow you down, but not that far

You know, when it comes to my mother, well, I’m clearly blind. I have given so many chances, but she always lets me down somehow.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in months, so 4 weekends ago we made plans for me to go down and just spend time with her. I was there for 2 nights, and we had a blast. We laughed so hard and just spent time together and I loved every minute of it. So I decided I would go out again but this time for longer. 1 night is now my limit. No need to chance it. I will never chance it again. I can not chance it again.

2 weekends ago I went for 4 nights. On the fourth night, she got loaded and started telling me awful stories about how I used to be when I was younger. The worse part? The stories were fabricated. But I still fell asleep crying, and being sick to my stomach twice throughout the night.

When I was around 7 I threatened my sister with a steak knife because she was being a terror and telling me awful hings about how no wonder our parents didn’t like me, so I told her I wish I could stab her with this knife. She continued to poke me so I chased her around the kitchen table. I did it because I had seen it on tv. And apparently I am not the only child who has done something ridiculously stupid like that.

Anyways, my mom changed the story to be doing that to everyone in my family other than my then step father “because I was afraid of him”. She said that her, my brother and sister had voted early on that they would rather keep me then put me in an institution, so I became my families dirty little secret. She said this happened when I was 6. So already the time line doesn’t add up. And who would ask that of a 4 almost 5 year old and an 8 year old. How could you expect them to make a decision like that? Why would you ask that of your children? She then told me that I had strangled her and she almost died when I was 7. My mother is not small, she has always been a normal size, but I was very very tiny as a child up until I started gaining weight when I was 22, so how in the world could a 7 year old who was always way underweight be able to overpower a woman of her size? And my hands have always been tiny. Little sausage fingers that I still have today. She then said that she didn’t have any proof other then my doctor’s notes, but all of the ones where they had told her that there was nothing wrong with me and that all these appointments were taking their toll on me were gone. I think I’m going to have to email the one doctor that I remember to see if I can see the files.

She then said that this was the reason my siblings didn’t like me. That my sister never wanted to do anything with me, still doesn’t. She said that I outed my brother in high school too. So I texted both my siblings asking for their insight and if any of this was true. My brother is the most honest person you will ever meet, and he is brutally honest so I take his word for what it is. My sister is never anywhere in sight. Brother told me that I did out him, but it was not on purpose. He said he and I were fighting because we did not get along when we were younger, and I screamed out “you’re so gay” at school one day. He said that he never took it seriously because at that point in time, he hadn’t even come to terms with it himself so he thought nothing of it. The rest he said was bullshit and that none of it happened. He said that everyone goes through a weird knife faze and he said he had even done it to me so it was possible that that was where I had seen it. But he said other than that, nothing other than me being angry occurred.


So back to the present. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I decided out of nowhere that I wanted to throw my sister a surprise dirty 30 birthday party. I spent hours looking up venue ideas and pricing and photo booths and activities. Her birthday is in April so I had tons of time to make things up. I decided that I was going to ask our aunt and uncle to be part of it by saying that they were going to have a wedding anniversary and ask my sister to talk at it so she had to be present.  I decided that I would charge all her friends around 30 dollars to pay for all the food and activities and booze, and hat I would find a way online so they would pay it when they rsvped so I wouldn’t get screwed over like the last time I set up a party. So I decided to call my mom today and just tell her about it… You see where I’m going with this? lol


My mom told me that she thought it was a bad idea. Her first response: “Well what are you going to do since you and her boyfriend don’t get along?”. “Maybe he has something planned for her birthday so it sounds iffy to me”. They’ve been dating for less than 2 years. And then she says that he is taking a job in Seattle and that she thinks my sister will be going with him.

I fucking hate these people. I just want to find a new place and start new. Fresh faces where people don’t think of their daughter’s boyfriend first instead of their other daughter. I want truths, I want love.

I’m done with this shit.


I’ve been waking up with these aches in my chest for the last two or three weeks. Tears streaming down my face; just knowing that I had another nightmare. That I wake up convinced I’m in some other parallel universe. That I’m dead. That the things in my room are the same but different. And it takes me a few minutes to realize that I’m somehow still alive. The only saving grace is that I wake up not remembering my dreams. Not today though. Today I remembered everything. And the salt that has been escaping my eyes for the last 2 hours doesn’t seem to be slowing down. Please, slow down.

I’m not going to bore you with every boring detail. I’ll see if I can paraphrase for the most part. I was in my old house on Steeplechase. And all my mom’s friends and my Nana was were in the living room. And my mom kept bashing me. Saying how awful I was. How disrespectful I was. How I was such a horror. And everyone just believed her words. No one questioned any of it. They saw me in the question, making snacks and doing dishes, but they looked at me with anger in their eyes. They could see that I was being my helpful self, and yet, they believed all the poison pouring out of my mothers mouth.

I was locked in my room. Hearing their words through the crack of the door, and I couldn’t even defend myself.

That’s how life was when I was younger. My mother would call my Nana and she would she tell her all the awful things I said or did. 90 percent of the things she said, I didn’t even do. She would embellish them. To this day, I still do not know if my Nana just let my mom vent to help her feel better or if she really believed her. God, I loved her so much. I loved her with every inch of my being. And it killed me that my mother was spewing so much poison in her ears every night. And there was nothing I could do. I have a fuzzy memory of doing something once upon a time, telling her I swear it wasn’t as bad as she was describing. But I have no idea if I actually did tell her.

Maybe I just wish I had someone who could just wipe away my tears, and see passed them. Not care that sometimes they’re there; that they’ll love me, salty face and all.

David doesn’t.

Colby gave me the strength once to believe that I deserved better.

Now I just need to find that strength by myself. Because Colby left me, even though I needed him. And sometimes it’s what they have to do. Sometimes the tears are too much for certain people. I don’t hold anything against him; he did what he needed to do. I wish him well, but fuck, how I miss him.


Cause you’re the first thing I know I can believe in

June 20th, 2016. Remember this day Tyn. Today was the day you realized that he will never change. All these months were just a lie. Words to keep you. He’s never going to be what you need. He’s never going to want what you want.

I started making fabric dolls a few months ago. And I realized that I was actually pretty good at it. Every doll I make gets better and better. More details, less imperfections. And the thing that really is the kicker… I’m loving doing it. I cannot remember a time when I would make something and be proud of it. But now I am. I’m so fucking proud of myself.

I’ve made a total of 6 dolls now. Made up their specifications, figured out which fabrics work best with which threads, all by myself. I started making another one today, but it was so fucking hot out, and we’re on the second floor of a duplex, and it was ball sweat hot. So I was only able to make part of her body before I melted on my chair.

Anywho, I had finished one last week but didn’t list it yet. So I listed her tonight, and I was pretty proud of myself because I made her description humorous. Because she has a big fat ass and I basically said she was working it haha I digress. So I went over to David to tell him about it. But he was watching some sort of Alligator hunting show, which he only got in to yesterday. So I asked him if he could pause it for a few minutes so I could just tell him about it or show him. He didn’t even look at me and said “Honestly Tyn, I just don’t care. Now could you go away so I can watch my show?”

Sigh. Is it so wrong to want someone who would at least fake being interested? Or at least encourage me. Anything. ANYTHING.

I fucking hate this shit

Skipping Stones

It’s time for me to be true, to be real with myself. To forgive myself. To wake up and be clear. Breathe in, Breathe out.

I’m loosening my grip. I won’t hold on to something anymore that doesn’t want to be held. And I’m starting to be happy again. How simple is that? Such an easy concept; I wish I had tried it sooner.

A week, or possibly more, ago, Cole told me that he hasn’t counted us as friends in a long time. And something in me plummeted. A gasp escaped my lips, not understanding. He was so frustrated. His voice laced with aggression. My confusion setting him off again. How could you not understand, Tyn? Why is it so hard for you to grasp? Why do I always have to explain myself? Too many questions, never enough answers.

He meant too much to me, while I meant nothing to him. And that’s fine. Sometimes that is just how the cookie crumbles. I can’t make someone love me like I wanted to love him. You can’t break someone’s walls down if they’re on the other side building them up again. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is stop. Stop trying. Stop pushing for something that only one person wants.

I think I just so desperately wanted to be loved. Truly, Madly, Deeply. Are those not the words to the song you wish someone would sing to you? Yeah, of course they are, you twat. To wake up to texts saying things like I hope you have a great day or thinking about your smile. Wanting to be wanted. I put too much pressure on him to give me these things. I wanted rainbows and kisses; Hearts and unicorns. But today, today I figured out that I don’t need those. Don’t get me wrong, I want those things, and I pray that I get them one day, but for now, I’m enough. I’m enough. I’m my own unicorn. I’ll run in to my own arms in the middle of a field while my allergies fuck up. I’ll laugh as I dance in the rain. I’ll watch my Disney movies as I balance a bowl of popcorn on my belly, and then immediately regret eating it for all the kernels stuck in my teeth. I’ll play my games and just be me. Because I don’t need Prince Charming like I thought I did.

Maybe one day he’ll come around. My Prince Charming will appear, and he’ll love me more then anything. And he will look at me and know that I’m everything. I don’t need a guy that I need to convince that I’m a catch. If he doesn’t see it then that’s his loss, not mine. And that’s ok. Not everyone is going to love me right away. I have tons of baggage, I swear like a sailor, I’m crass, I don’t really have a support system, but I’m me, and I’m more then enough. I’m fucking fantastic.

So here’s to the next guy, that sees me for the real me, and not all the crap that I’ve trudged through in the past. Who doesn’t hold petty things against me. Who sees how strong I am. How loving I am. How I put everything I am in to the things I love. Here’s to the guy who says she’s mine, and I’m going to keep her. Here’s to you, Mr Robinson.

Are we out of the woods yet; are we out of the woods

Yesterday was bitter sweet.

You see, I’d spent these last few months, possibly more, trying to earn my way back in to being friends with Cole. I was essentially a dog, doing everything he wanted and jumping when he told me to. All because I cared about him and wanted to be his friend. I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to show him that he was wanted.

I feel like I don’t know anything anymore. One of the people I cherished most tells me that he hasn’t counted me as a friend in a long time. That we don’t mesh. That we’re not compatible. That friendship is not earned, it’s either there or it isn’t. But those were his words and not my own.

I think I may be starting to understand a little bit. That not everyone puts in what I do. Not everyone is going to be the friend that I am, and that sometimes when you put something out in the Universe, that what you get back might not always be what you had wanted.

But yesterday, Cole took my still beating heart, and he crushed it. As if it weren’t anything essential; as if someone didn’t need it to survive. And as I clutched my chest, waiting for something to give, he just cackled and walked away. With bits of my heart stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

He said we had nothing in common, nothing to mesh us together anymore. But what he really meant was that he didn’t want to mesh. That I wasn’t worth his time, and that I hadn’t been in a long time.

He says that friendship isn’t earned. That it’s either there or it isn’t. Black and white. He sees no in between. And I feel sorry for him. If I saw what he did, then I wouldn’t have my 2 best friends.

Messa hated me for the 2 first years of high school. It was in grade 9 that we started talking, and we realized that yes, I could like you. And we never looked back. Same thing with CeeCee. I couldn’t stand her in high school. Just the sound of her voice made me want to punch people. Her loud ass laugh made me see red. Then we started working together, and I still hated her, but after a few months we started to get to know each other more, and now I couldn’t see a future without her in it. I still call her my acquired taste.

Not earned, eh? Maybe he was fortunate enough to have to never try, yet. But I am 5 years older than him. So maybe that’s just something he will have to learn in time. And I wanted for so long to be there for him when it happened. I never wanted to change him, I liked him the way he was. And that’s saying a lot, since I know he’s fucked up. That he’s set in his ways and there is no other way. That there’s this ONE path, and if you’re not on it, then you’re doing it wrong. Honestly, I don’t blame him. If I had been raised the same way, I guess I’d have the same mentality. I’d believe everything everyone ever told me, if they were in my inner circle.

And now he has succeeded. Because I hate him. The guy I wished I could talk to more, that I could spend more time with because I loved being around him, broke my heart in such a way that there will not be any coming back from it.