Such A Beautiful Move...

he didn’t think i was pretty. forget enough; try not at all. it is a sobering truth to learn. how do you react when someone knows every inch of your soul and doesn’t fall in love with you, even just a little bit? i don’t know how you come out of that without a slice in your heart. i don’t know how you just… pick up and move on. i look at myself in the mirror. really look at myself. and i feel a stone drop in my stomach, because no, i never thought i was pretty before. but i never thought i wasn’t, either.

he didn’t think i was pretty - oakflower (via oakflower)

The Secret Lives of Colour / The Secret Lives of Color, by Kassia St Clair, Hodder & Stoughton, London, 2016 / Penguin Random House, New York, NY, 2017

Step 1,2 3…. But, the best self defense is awareness.

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10/10 favorite women’s finishers » Black Widow [AJ Lee] (Octopus hold)

I have two moods: 

1. Starve until I die

2. Binge until I cry

I'm just waiting for the day when just being me is enough for someone...

I just wish I could stop thinking sometimes...

I overthink, a lot, about everything.

I guess it's normal, sometimes. Sometimes I go back to conversations that have happened before. I analyse everything that was said and I think of every possible thing that each statement could mean. I think of everything that the other person could think I was trying to say. Then eventually I think of something and it makes me feel like the worst person on the planet.

Sometimes I try to stop myself from thinking about something because I know it will make me depressed. So intead I go to my happy place. Funny enough I think of wrestling. I have my perfect moments picked out already. My character. My debut match on NXT. Winning the NXT Women's Championship. Debuting on the main roster and winning the RAW Women's Championship. And finally, being the first female Superstar to main event Wrestlemania. I know these are all dreams, and they probably won't come true, but I think about this all the time anyway. I replay these moments all the time because they make me happy. I think about them to make sure I don't think about something depressing.

I recently found two things that depress me the most. One of them is a conversation that hasn't even happened. It will probably never happen. It's with Leonard. I think, that I probably only think about it because a part of me wants it to happen. In the scenario he actually wants to talk to me. He's himself again and he wants to talk to me because he wants us to be friends again. In my mind I switch. In one timeline I take him back and we're friends again. We're happy. In the other I tell him everything I ever wanted to say. I tell him how much he hurt me over the past year. I put up walls, which I have actually started building in real life, and I move on from him. I think this is the best option if this coversation ever happens. Either way I end up crying. No matter which timeline I follow. I cry because I know that either way, I'm going to end up hurt in the end...

The other thing I think about that makes me depressed is my parents. So I haven't really spoken about my family, but basically, I have one brother and one sister. We're closer than ever because all we have, is each other. My mom passed away when I was nine years old. My sister was in her final year of high school, my brother was in his third year at university. I just remember her feeling sick; taking her to hospital; the nurses refusing to let me see her because I was "too young" to go into the rooms; finding out about her cancer; seeing her on her birthday; getting a call in the middle of the night; and saying good-bye to her... I sucked, everything about it sucked. I feel like I never really even knew her. I just hear stories about her from the rest of my family.

The story with my dad is different. Even though I grew up with him in my life, I never really felt like I knew him. My dad had a severe stroke when I was about fve years old. He started to detatch himself from everyone else and isolated himself from even our family. As I grew up he started to close himself off from us more and more. It got even worse when my mom passed away. But I always had my brother and sister... We stuck together through it. It made us closer. Soon we didn't even see my dad for meals. He would come out to fetch food while my brother and sister were at work and I was doing homework. He would take the food to gis room and eat there. I never really understood how bad it was. I was kid. To me, this was normal, this was life. I only really understood it when I got to high school. My friends would talk about their dads and I realised that my family was not normal. I would visit their houses and realise that mine made my family look poor and dirty even though we weren't.

When I was in Grade 11, I realised things had to change. I spoke to a few people and I realised I wanted a dad again. I wanted to have a relationship with him. So I started to try. I started with simple things like recording wrestling and asking him to watch with me. He would sometimes, but he would forget that I hadn't seen it and spoil matches for me. Sometimes I would be mad (Undertaker vs Lesner *cough*). I would ask him to sit and eat with us. Most of the time he said no. But I still tried. I would sit and try to talk to him about anything. I never really felt like I got through. But it worked sometimes. Two days before my final high school exams started, my brother and I were about to go out and buy food. When we were about to leave we said "bye" to my dad and he didn't reply. I remember seeing that he was struggling to breathe, so we sat with him and he started clutching his chest. We were trying everything, but he was having a heart attack. I was calling everyone I knew. Every aunt, uncle and cousin, even my church pastor because I had no idea what to do. But it was too late. I had watched my father pass away right before my eyes.

I've never really spoken to anyone about this, but I felt like it was an important part of this post because I think about this. I think about how I never really knew my parents. Everytime I mess up, no matter how small it is, I feel like I'm letting them down. I hate this feeling, but it's there. I never really know how to feel. Because even though I never really knew them. I still miss them. I regret that I never really had a childhood where they taught me how to ride a bike or make cookies. I never really had a chance to even talk to them and I hate it. I know that with mom I never had the choice. But with my dad I had a chance and I never took it. So I regret it. I constantly overthink every moment I had with my dad. I think about how I would change it and how I would try to make things right. I would do better in Maths and Science and try to make him proud because I pretty much failed those subjects...

I constantly wish that for a moment I could turn my brain off and find some peace, but it's almost impossible. So I try to think of better things. Good memories, like sitting at the dining room table and talking to my mom while she writes in a notepad. Or watching RAW while my dad says it's turning into a soap opera and hates on Seth Rollins. Sometimes I even think about those conversations I had with Leonard about why he loves Batman. Then I realise none of these things will ever happen again. So I get desparate for happiness and I think of myself at the end of Wrestlemania holding up the Women's Title. It's dumb. But it works. I still cry, but I cry tears of joy because that would be me, making history at Wrestlemania. For a few minutes, I am okay. I allow myself to think until I find something to distract me from my thoughts.

💖😢

Rugrats was deep.