It’s Wednesday, September 18, 7:31 AM PST.
Yesterday was my last therapy session for a while; we went over a draft of a blog post I’ve been working on for a year.
My relationships with other women can be separated into two categories: women who think my adolescence and puberty is as valid as theirs was, and those who don’t.
It’s difficult to know most women are probably in the latter category. Being stuck is horrible and I really want to stop feeling like I have to earn being called a she.
It’s Tuesday Sept 17 8:50 PM.
Tuesday, September 17, 8:50 PM EST
This chair is too hard, the wine’s not great, and I wish I could write this directly in the Orb app on my desktop. Instead, I’m stuck drafting in Notes, ready to copy and paste later. I feel uninspired, which usually means I need more time to myself—time to be bored, time to let curiosity sneak in.
It’s funny. I have all these functional corporate skills, but my heart still longs for boldness, chaos, and mess. I want to break molds, yet here I am, constantly building them. I need more downtime to get creative—to let boredom do its work.
“No amount of free snacks, or massages, or ‘fun’ staff retreats will make up for a job that grinds you down, when what you really need is time to be a person.” - Sarah Jaffe, Work Won't Love You Back
It’s Monday, September 16, 6:41 AM PST.
I’ve learned that the thing that allows PTSD to manifest is dysregulation or ‘hijacking’ of the nervous system.
I have a bag of tricks: Sour candy,and spray bottles of cold water. A deep wave of shame washes over me every time I pack it to go to a party.
On some horrifically deep level, I still think a man touching me without my consent was my fault.
It’s Sunday, September 15 10:40 AM PST .
After adding a paisley orb to my daily candy jar, I don’t feel sad anymore.
I forgot what it’s like to feel normal. I wonder what things would’ve been like if I’ve done this a long time ago.
I’m sad that friends who have become strangers never got to see the real me. I’m happy that the strangers who have become friends now do.
It’s Saturday Sept 14, 11:20 am est.
I have TOO much to do and I find it weird that I’m thinking about “followers” every time I jump in the app. Not really the energy I carry and now realizing this is a very meta journal entry haha. My mom made me laugh this morning
It’s Saturday, September 14, 7:31 AM PST.
I’ve slowly come to accept that trashy is always going to be one of my adjectives.
I already have the tattoos and the aesthetic, but I think it’s important to realize I am not one of those perfectly poised, elegant women who went through one form of finishing school or the other.
I prefer words like fuck and bullshit to the alternatives and will probably always carry the faintest scent of white trash.
It’s Friday, September 13, 7:31 AM PST.
It can be really hard to walk through that door to what’s next. The comfort of the familiar can be insanely seductive.
You should have so much gratitude for people or places or things that give you a push through.
You might tumble through and land on your knees, but eventually, you’ll stand up even taller than you were before.
It’s Thursday, September 12 9:19 AM PST.
The word authenticity on social media has become so overused, to me, that it’s lost all meaning.
I prefer the word raw. It’s scary, and a far cry from the manicured, perfectly poised feeling that the word authenticity gives me.
Being raw means posting that selfie after an hour of ugly crying, not because it looks good, but because it’s you.
It’s Thursday, Sept 12 @ 12:52 am est
I’d love to have more people share entries in open journal! Suggestions and ideas welcome 🤗