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I have a confession, I am my mother’s daughter. I have a terrible temper and a tendency to be flaky and unreliable. For me love is an addiction, an obsession, a have to have. I am dramatic and childish in the best and worst possible ways. I am generous to a fault. I am afraid of my ambition, of earning money, of losing myself in a life without passion. I lack confidence and self-esteem. I don’t recognize my value. I feel guilty for everything and that makes me really hard to talk to. I cry easily and often and I don’t know if I am being manipulative or if I am just feeling vulnerable. I try to save people even at the expense of my own personal safety and well-being. I am hysterical. Open. Playful. Unstable. Innocent. I worry too much. I am aggressively protective. I can’t stand to see other people suffer, particularly children and animals. I am wise beyond my years. I am my mother’s counselor and also her mother. I am empathetic. I am my own worst nightmare. I complicate everything. I am gullible and adorable. I am competitive but I never win. I know what you want before you do. If you ask me a question I will bare my soul but I will never answer your question because I don’t know what I think or feel or who I am deep down. I accept everything, even the contradictions. I am psychopomp and a psychic. I exist more in dreams than in reality.

I am my father’s daughter. From him I learned that my value comes from outside of myself. Men are the ones who assign value and meaning to my life. My survival depends on my ability to accommodate and please my partner. I can’t live on my own. I am an object. I am fragile. I am defiant. I am an anarchist. I abhor mediocrity. I am paranoid and pessimistic and sometimes I compensate for feelings of unworthiness with excessive pride. I am a crippled genius. I am an unlocker of doors some of which ought to remain closed. I am an instigator. A Devil’s advocate. I will bring out the best and the worst in you. I am a recluse desperate for attention. I am possessive and jealous. I run wild. I like mysteries. I solve people like puzzles. I look in dark places. I am voracious and relentless. I am timid. I am a monster slayer. I am also a monster. I continue to gaslight myself and second guess all my choices. I am a failure. Not because of the mistakes I have made but because I give up before I even begin. Humiliation is the worst of all feelings. I am as big as a universe and as small as a seed. I have demon blood. I am more animal than man. I have an inferiorly complex as deep as the ocean. I am bottomless. I am terrified all the time. I don’t know how to be happy. I have an intensity which others find both alarming and alluring. I am both asexual and hyper-sexual and that’s probably a result of repeated sexual abuse which is to say I don’t know the true state of my sexuality. I am always fighting against myself, society, the man. For me surrender is synonymous with death. I am a revolutionary without a cause. I am a window painted over and nailed shut. I am black and white. I can smell blood in the water. I know your weaknesses. I see your strengths. My words are like razors. I am loved but I don’t know it. I make excuses. I brag. I have seen too much. I am scarred all the way through. I see man for what he is both good and bad. I don’t care if our beliefs differ. I am a drowning man. I have a head full of stories. I don’t know how to speak to people out loud. I say the wrong things. I am impulsive. I don’t hit children. I think animals are better people than people are.

16 thoughts on “Sunday Confessionals : Secrets

      1. Oh no, you’re SO Not alone! I read every word, nodding at most of them, thinking it’s hard and frustrating to be a human being…and lest I forget, Exhausting!! God bless you, dear heart💙

  1. I am NOT my mother’s daughter. The very first decision I took in my life was that I don’t want to like her. I will be independent, quiet and not blame & criticise others all the time.

  2. There are a lot of instances where I learned to do the opposite. Having a father who was an alcoholic and heavy smoker led to my avoiding alcohol and tobacco products. My mom did hit children. My dad was a child molester. I did not take after them in those respects. My mom escaped in her work. She prioritized work and money over me for much of my life and practically worked herself to death (literally the ambulance had to force her to the hospital and while barely conscious she was still fighting to continue her work and it was not even a job she particularly liked!). Work was her drug of choice. That has created very mixed feelings in me about work and it is also why I find balance so important because I realize from my parents I probably do have a tendency toward addiction and obsession (I try to be mindful of that). My mom tried very hard not to be like her own mom. Her mom was overbearing and suffocating. She overcompensated. She meant well but she overcompensated. So I promised myself I wouldn’t try just to not be like them because that could swing me into another extreme and of course despite their flaws they also had good qualities (hard to find with my dad admittedly). I would be honest about myself, what I got from them and what I didn’t and have no inclination towards despite genetics and upbringing. If I can take some of the more intense, extreme qualities and harness them in a more constructive way I will. I know my passionate nature lends itself well to creative pursuits. So I don’t believe in eradicating emotions or qualities. It is the behaviors which are the issue. Anger is one thing. Hitting someone is another. Anger is energy. I can use that to get through a challenging workout for example.

  3. “I am a crippled genius,” and, “I can smell blood in the water,” are my favorites … both of which could/should be book titles.

    P.S. I love you. ♡

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