icanhasamanda

icanhasamanda

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i never wiitheld from you until now. my mouth was an open gate, letting all inside path through and spill over and out. but when you looked at me the way you just did, used the tone of voice you just did, i for the first time shut the gate. for my safety.

My ideal of life is one that is stylized. Aesthetics, photo-worthy moments. Not one of little unremarkable moments, but one that can be admired from afar.

They checked on the welfare of my child because they thought there was a threat to it. And they thought I was that threat. What could I have done to be considered a threat to my child? It wasn't what I have done - it was merely my existence. My existence as a mentally ill woman.

i got a haircut because i felt it would cut away my past. i ate a large fastfood dinner and icecream while watching shitty tv because i believe this would be my last day being unhealthy to mark the transition of my life into something healthy, pure. i thought that my soul could be fixed with these materialistic, petty rituals.

i relate to the rest of the world, and this is what makes up what i am. i am nothing by myself, no one. i am a human, a living human, a child of someone, and now a mother - all relations to others that define me. i am define by who and what i am not.

lack

I lack. I don't have, own, accomplish. My self identified by everything that I lack. I will never be anything more than my limits.

i was daises and sugar to everyone but inside i was acid burning burning

sugar-coated laughs echoed throughout my ears and dripped into my head and into my mouth. i tasted you.

I wore a traditional white wedding gown the day I destroyed my life. I had my hair up. I smiled. I drank wine, ate good food. Danced. All while forever committing myself to life of misery.

i deserve nothing. i was born out of a series of chances, there is no place carved out for me on this world. i could cease to exist and the world would not blink. as a result, i cannot believe that anything is inherently mine to take.

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writing since 2011 · 179 entries · 179 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Amanda showed up.

8longest streak

179days written

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on this day 13 years ago

Amanda wrote about mirage
“our love was a mirage - a distant fantasy that i kept trying to grasp. once i actually reached the spot of close interaction with you - i realized it was all an illusion. we don't have chemistry, we …”

the words Amanda reaches for

nowwordsmindthoughtsgodloveheartselfheadfoodcarealongtryingcompletelyfuckbody