I've Been Shattered By The Ones I Thought I Loved

Have you ever woke up one morning and realised that all your life you have been playing a part? That your family, the people who should know and love you best, truly don't know you at all? After a long series of terrible events I have come to the conclusion that I don't seem to matter, if I ever did. My mother is manipulative and plays favourites, which I have never been. Being born as a female instead of the male she thought that I was going to be (sonograms back in the 80's weren't as accurate as they are now) sealed that fate for me. She had my name picked out and everything and when I was born a girl I spent a week without a name and my mother having to adjust to the fact that I was a girl. Of course she loved me like all mothers love their infants, but she was distant always so distant. When my brother was born next he was christened with the name that she had chosen for my then male thought self. She loved him from the get go and bonded with him from the time he exited the womb. He was always her favourite, the one who could do no wrong, the golden child, and the one who was perfect in her eyes. I was cast aside in a way once he entered the picture. I always heard my whole life that since we had no father figure (well until the stepmonster entered the picture, I was 6 I think) that he needed extra guidance and care since he was a boy and needed that male attention. I was always in trouble with some little thing or another. I acted out for attention and I only ever was punished. Even then as a 5 or 6 year old I felt bitter and resentment. What 5 or 6 year old child should ever have to feel those emotions? Growing up was harsh, I learned at an early age to conceal the hurt and hide myself away behind a mask. Anger was an acceptable outlet, that's what I learned from my parents anyways. I was always fighting for my mother's attention, affection, and love. However I never got it. I think I was 10 when I started thinking of my mother as just a person that I lived with (although I would never admit that to anyone let alone myself). With my stepmonsters anger problem and somewhat verbal and physical abuse from him and my mother's cold distance I was left floundering and had to raise myself. My grandmother was their somewhat, but I was still alone, always alone. The golden child was perfect until high school (perfect grades, popular, athletic, outgoing, etc...) while I was self-conscious, struggled a bit in school, and was awkward. Once my brother injured himself for good and could no longer play sports he started to slip down to seemingly mortal limits. It was then he started to use drugs, drink, and do all sorts of unperfect things. The thing is that the whole family knew what was going on, but they were in denial that their perfect child could be anything but ok. In middle school and high school I was suicidal, a cutter, bulimic, anorexic, and a multitude of many other self-destructive habits. Unlike my brother I tried reaching out to my parents for help, but they always turned me away not believing that I had any problems even when the signs and clues were so blatantly clear (I'll never forgive them for that.) My brother then spent the next 5-6 years of his life dropping out of high school, wasting all his money on drugs, stealing from the family, and countless other terrible things. Finally last month the family sent him to rehab. I discovered last week that he had stolen every valuable piece of jewelry that I own (including my grandmother's wedding rings that she passed on to me when she died). I was devestated and told my family what happened and was told that I wasn't the only one who had been stolen from, that it was the drugs. Now ladies and gentlemen this is a 23 year old man and he has never had to be accountable for anything in his life. Nothing has ever been his fault. My grandmother was the only one in my family who ever showed her love and acceptance for me. She was the only one who helped and supported me over the years. I still feel her loss deep in my soul and still hurt so grievously. For him to steal one of the most precious things that I own (one of the few things that I have as hers) kills me and it stabs at my heart and soul. Of course I am not allowed to say anything or confront him about it, nor am I able to openly be angry about it because Goddess forbid it disrupts his recovery. Fuck him and his recovery. I am so fucking sick of having to sacrifice my happiness and hide myself away because of them. I hate them so much, but at the same time I love them. Talk about unhealthy relationships. No wonder I don't let anyone close to me at all. I no longer feel safe or comfortable in my own home. My family has lost all of my trust and confidence. After I finish with my schooling I am going to leave here and never come back. I have been hurt too much, so much and I am exhausted of pretending. The only reason I am still alive to this day is because of my grandmother and my best friend. No one knows how close I came to ending it a few times. My soul hurts, my heart is shattered into a million different pieces. No matter how broken I am on the inside no one ever knows. Anyways that's it for now. 
~Ember Rose~  

Somewhere....

Love.... Is a constant in everyone's life that leaves and comes in like the ocean tides. I have loved many in my life, but unfortunately I have been burned and hurt by everyone I have given my heart away to. I'm not a bitter or cynical girl, but realistically love for me just doesn't seem to work. I have come to grips with that horrible hard truth, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I've had four people that I considered the "one" or loves of my life, but things always turned pear shaped before I could achieve my happily ever after. 


Jeremy, my first love. What a clusterfuck that relationship was. We were together for almost a year when he broke up with me for no apparent reason. Using the classic "it's not you, it's me" speech. Weeks later and incredibly heartbroken I find him and my best friend at the time flirting and acting like a couple. As it turned out he was using me the whole time to get closer to her and attract her attention, while I was just a good convenient shag. What a douche bag! Years later I get the invite to their wedding, like I would go near either of them with a 10 foot pole let alone go to their nuptials.... 


John, the passionate love. I found John at a time when I wasn't looking for anything serious or a commitment at all. John was the misunderstood bad boy who had a lot of demons but a heart of gold. It didn't take long for me to fall for him. Unfortunately John also had a very bad drug habit that started to escalate out of control and I couldn't stay with him any longer after some dangerous situations started to arise. I told him that I would go back to him if he quit the drugs. A  year later John died of an overdose and I found myself attending his funeral. I was devastated and truthfully I still am. I always thought that he would get clean and that we could have a second chance, unfortunately fate had other plans.... 


Leah, the I so didn't see it coming love. Leah and I started out as friends with some innocent flirting and what not. She was lesbian and I bi, but it didn't matter. Things between us moved a lot slower than the others did. I got to know Leah very well and I also got really close with her family. Being bi, I always thought that I would settle down with a man and have to quench my bi desires with porn or something. But for the first time I could see myself with Leah 10 years down the road and happy. Leah got into some financial troubles with her tuition and other things. She decided to go work at a gentleman's club, and while I wasn't that thrilled about her working their I accepted it. After working their for 2 months she started to pull away from me, and while I am not clingy or needy I knew that something wasn't quite right. I found out a month later that she had been sleeping with one of the other female performers. Yet another love cheated my heart. 


Brendan, the love I didn't know was a love until he was gone. Brendan and I had been flirtatious friends. Me being the more experienced in relationships and life, and he being slightly naive and  innocent. We would talk everyday for hours, and he was even there through the whole Leah debacle and the death of my grandmother. However since I had been burned so many times in love I was blase and never expressed myself to him or let him know that he had my heart. He gave me his heart, but I wasn't careful with it. I didn't know what to do with it, I was scared. After my grandmother died he started talking to me less and less. At the time I was so involved in my own grief that I didn't notice him slipping through my fingers. I knew I had hurt him so much by being so cold, so I let him slip away. He deserved that fresh break, he deserved someone better than me. I regret letting him slip away, I regret never realising that he had my heart. 


Despite all of this their is still a vague flicker of hope that I have someone out there somewhere. I don't want to end up alone.... 


~EmberRose~ 

Approaching Nuclear!

Don't you absolutely hate it when you no longer feel comfortable in your own home due to other inconsiderate house mates? My brother ( a stoner and a possible hard core drug user) had a fall out with the step dad monster and decided that he was going to crash at our house for a while. Now I have no issue helping out someone when they need it, but seriously him being here has inconvenienced my life so utterly. For one thing he is sleeping on the couch in my living room, leaving his cigarette and whatever else stench all over my upholstery. 


Then he expects to be fed something different and meat related every night, now I have no problem cooking but there are countless amounts of leftovers in my refrigerator and I am one who doesn't believe in wasting food. I am also a vegetarian and while I have no issue cooking meat for others I do have days where we all ate vegetarian! He also has to wake up at 2:45-3:00 to get to work at 4:00 am! I mean it's so inconvenient because my living room is no longer able for me to use at all, plus I have to go to bed earlier to not wake him up. I am a night owl and can't get to sleep until at least 2:00 am everyday. 


Then he goes and does something so rude and inconsiderate that I just want to go and slap his face! He invites some chick over, someone I have never met and my dear brother doesn't do relationships so I am uncomfortable to go out of my den. Who knows what they could be doing? Plus he never asked if I was alright if he had someone over. I mean that is common courtesy isn't it? Grrrr.... I'm just so sick of it! He needs to get the hell out of my house soon because I am about ready to explode. 


That's all for now..... 
~Ember Rose~ 

Ollie!

So for my 25th birthday, last week, I got a 10 week old chion puppy (chihuahua and papillon). His name is Ollie and he is pretty much my whole world at the moment. For all of the horror stories I've heard from friends and family about potty training little dogs, I haven't had a problem at all, and he likes going outside (prefers it even). Also we've been doing some command training and he gives me his paw when I say "paw", which he learned in pretty much 2 minutes. Today we mastered the sit command in 1 minute! I swear I have the chion puppy genius! I'm very proud of him!!! Then again, his sire Xander is a smart cookie himself so his genes proved true, since his mother isn't as smart. 

Broken

We go through life searching for something, anything to complete us, make us feel whole. Some of us scoff at that, but it's true no matter how sub-conscious it may be for some. I have searched my whole life for that completeness, but have only had negative results and become more broken and bitter with every failed attempt. Perhaps my bitterness obscures my sight and reasoning, maybe I do need to start letting down my walls. I have never felt like I belonged anywhere, not even at home, where you are supposed to feel safe and secure. My home life was stifling and dysfunctional (well it still is) and I felt nothing but oppression and despair. Sometimes I just want to scream "FUCK YOU" on the top of my lungs to be finally heard and not be immediately absorbed into the background. I hate being just like everyone else, so I always have this compulsion to be the different one and like different things, be different in general. I hate being threatened or someone holding something over my head, hey I've spent most of my life with that anyways. I'm just so sick of being this broken, bitter person! 


How long does it take you to get over a broken heart? Well with how things are going for me, I don't think that you ever truly can or do. A year ago I lost my grandmother (my mother for all accounts and purposes) and a month later the man I had finally let in broke things off with me. I was pissed for the longest time that he could do that to me after all he knew of the great loss that had happened just a month earlier. Then I realised that the reason it hurt me so bad was that I had fallen in love with him, but was too scared to ever acknowledge that or say it to him. Perhaps that was why he broke things off with me? I'll never know since I don't really want to know because the truth will probably hurt more. I have my good days, but my bad days are much more prevalent. No one ever notices or realises   this because I've mastered my mask (I mastered it long ago and no one has ever been able to see through it) and no one knows how devastated and broken I really am. I wish that I could open up and talk to someone, but my life has taught me how not to trust. I'm so sick of feeling this way! I'm so sick of playing the part due to things being held over my head or petty threats! I'm so sick of feeling so weak and fake! I'm so sick of having to sit down and take the shit that life throws at me! I'm sick of no matter how different I want to be, I never am far from the mold! I'm so sick of having to always censor my thoughts and opinions because people are morons and hate being called out on their shit! I'm just so sick and tired in general!!! GRRRR.... 


That's it for now,
~Ember Rose~ 

V-card to a woman

Rated Mature!!!! 


So every woman has the tale or story of how they lost their virginity, most will romanticize it to the point of self induced vomiting on the telles POV or others will over dramatize it as being terrible. Most woman look at their v-card being special and important to them. I honestly didn't give a shit about mine, in fact I wanted to lose mine asap just to get it over and done with. Perhaps a little of my inner rebel in that as well. I grew up in an uber religious family (catholic if you were wondering) and all I hear was abstinence this chastity that.... It was so annoying especially the fact that it was practically all on the woman. It was women's fault that men lusted, were tempted, fornicated, etc... It was hypocritical and very unfair, I hated it and I felt stifled and suffocated by the so called Christian morality! Seriously when it comes to sex as long as it is between consenting adults there is nothing wrong with it. 


I think I was 15 when I lost my v-card, although it could have been 14. Anyways it was the summer before my freshman year in high school. I was an early bloomer as well by then, I think I was already a small c cup, but anyways... His name was Jon (name changed for anonymity) he was a neighbourhood boy, older of course I think he was 16 and he had sort of a bad reputation. No teenage girl can resist the misunderstood bad boy! He had liquor of course and we drank together, I forget whose idea it was but he started kissing me (which wasn't bad as first kisses go anyways) and one thing led to another and we ended up having sex in his backyard. Looking back now my only regret was not using protection, we were wasted so it didn't cross my mind. Ladies we should always take charge of our sexual health and be on or carry some sort of contraception. Luckily nothing resulted of that little lapse of judgement. Now I know that we all hear the horror stories of how painful it was and how our partners last like 5 seconds. Mine didn't hurt at all, it was a little uncomfortable at first but not painful. Jon thankfully lasted maybe 5-6 minutes which is better than most first times. Now this wasn't headed to a relationship or anything and I didn't romanticize it or play the extra needy ex-virgin. Sex is sex no matter how pretty you paint it. We hooked up a few more times after that, using condoms after our little oopsie of course. After that the flood gates opened and sexuality was just another field for me to conquer. When it comes to sex I am much like a guy, cock or pussy is just that cock or pussy. Oh by the way I am bi-sexual, found that out a year or so later after my v-card fumblings. I guess I can be a little cavalier when it comes to sex, I mean sex is easy in the long run, most men can back me up on that. Relationships on the other hand are complicated and messy, but they can be worthwhile. 


So maybe in high school I didn't have a squeaky clean reputation, I never wanted one in the first place. In fact I hated and still hate the goody two shoes assumptions. I hate the colour white because it reminds me too much of chastity and abstinence lectures, and it also is just too pure, too innocent. Not that their is anything wrong with innocence, children are a great example of that and I love kids and believe in preserving that innocence that they have. Anyways I guess my original point was that losing my v-card was no big deal for me and that the whole perfect first time fantasies and cliches are just that!!! 


That's it for now. 
~Ember Rose~ 

What's the word for constant sacrifice?

You know I've spent almost all my life sacrificing pieces of myself for others, always putting my dreams on the sideline in order to help my family out or because of other unplanned circumstances. Yet I am unappreciated and devalued because I'm not as successful as others in their lives. I mean hello wake up where were you when your mother/mother in law was so sick from chemo that she couldn't cook, clean, barely take care of herself let alone others. So I put my dreams and myself on the back burner to take care of her because I loved her and she really had no one else that could do so, not that her husband didn't try but he was brought up in a different time when men had different roles than the caretaker and emotional support. Why do I have to continue sacrificing myself for these people who really could care less for me than a piece of paper. I'll tell you why, I have no place to go and well like I said before I wasted so much of my life forsaking myself and my dreams. I love you really means nothing when it's used to justify things that aren't alright, and it means nothing when you overuse it to validate yourself. I'm just so sick of these people and I regret almost every last sacrifice I made for them. Sort of drastic to say when they are your own family and the people who are supposed to be the ones you love unconditionally and the same in return. 


I realised today that the step-dad monster is a big part in why I have issues with men, well besides my own betrayals from ex-lovers. Why should I trust a man when he will never respect me? Why should I trust a man when he will always treat me and talk to me and at me like I am a complete moron? Why should I trust a man when his arrogance means his ego needs to be stroked constantly and if not then there will be hell to pay? Why should I trust a man when hes uses and manipulates me to get what he wants out of a situation or from someone else? A lot of valid reasons to distrust men is the only thing that man has ever taught me/given to me. I hate how that man talks to me like he knows everything when in all actuality he knows very little. I hate that I am expected to be the one who always sacrifices her needs, wants, dreams.... 


Not a great day in the least, but that's it for now. 


~Ember Rose~