She let herself go

 

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Want to know how a woman goes from looking sexy and shaving her pussy, getting her brows waxed, nails done; to packing on a shit ton of weight, wearing a pair of sweatpants like skin, and wandering through life with no make-up?

Too easy.

Its because….she gave up.

“There are some things worse than being alone,” my step-dad once told me, “and one of them is being in a bad relationship.” ‘Course I didn’t believe him at that time.

I’ve got an update for him now, if he were here for me to tell.   But he’s gone the bastard.  My step-dad disowned me when my mom told him his son had molested me as a child.  The truth hurts, some run.

I’d tell him,  “There are some thing worse than being dead and one of them is staying in a relationship once it’s already on life-support instead of just pulling the plug.”

Watching yourself slip away a little at a time after your partner slipped away.   When you finally “come to”, you are old and ugly and barely recognizable in the mirror.   Worse still, your soul feels marred and there is a disconnect from the only Higher Power that can pull you from the black place you find yourself in.

You are now a mere shadow of who you once were.  Not caring if you are physically dead some days, because you already feel dead on the inside.  The urge to pull the wheel to the embankment at 80 mph on the freeway creeps in more than it should.

“She let herself go”, you hear them say, and you don’t even care anymore.  It’s true because you did.  So fucking what.

You have bigger fish to fry now, than a to maintain that trim waistline and to try and look sexy for any superficial jerk-off liar who objectifies women.

Newsflash bitches.  Your cocks aren’t a higher power.  They never were.   And for all the women ensnared by abusive asshole men who exploited our kindness and love? I’ll raise you a fuck off to your “ISO a submissive” racket.

Stop acting out your own victimization under the pretense of helping to guide, shape, or otherwise better women.

Oh she let herself go alright, and that may have been a blessing in disguise.   Because  now maybe she can go inward and create the person she should have been.

 

 

 

 


Resentment

easy to lose one’s mind in this anger

bitterness seems to know no end

for years i wanted you but

you shunned me

now you’re health is waning

let’s get one thing straight

not going to be your nurse nanny

after you made me beg for your affection

for years

while you only gave me crumbs

fuck that.

but her

oh her

you never let me forget how she was better than me

you gave her the respect that I never got

talkin’ about how she was everything I wasn’t

do you think she’ll come up in here to wipe your ass?

oh that’s right she found comfort in another man’s wallet

all that’s left, are memories of dreams unrealized

all that’s left, in me is this resentment

all that’s left, is the realization that I stayed too long

 

 

 


Life could be a dream

If I could take you up in paradise up above…


Today I feel angry, Here’s the man who helped me

My hero, Fred Rogers

Rest in Peace neighbor

 

 

 


Would You Write A Letter To A Fellow Blogger?

If you are interested in viewing this post, please visit

fracturedfaithblog.com and search the above title.

I’m not able to re-blog this as the wife to whom authored this post, blocked me. I’m speculating that she felt threatened by me, that he, a reformed catfish, was leaving genuine and heartfelt comments on my blog. As a woman who was cheated on, I can see how that would be triggering. Nonetheless, he was never inappropriate with his comments.

Fractured Faith Blog

Yesterday I posted about emojis and the death of the written word. It generated quite a dialogue and one of the themes that emerged was how much people miss receiving, and sending, letters. You know, in the post. Stamps? Envelopes? Am I ringing any bells here people? It brought back to me the excitement and anticipation of receiving mail from penpals. There is something in the care and attention of writing and posting a letter that cannot be replicated into today’s ‘junk food’ society of e-mail, text and social media messaging.

So today’s post is a challenge to you all. Whether or not you choose my metaphorical gauntlet throwing is entirely up to you. It’s a challenge to write a letter and post it to a fellow blogger. Or bloggers if you are feeling particularly inspired. It can be anything. A few lines or your life story. It can include…

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Confessions Of A Recovering Catfish – Part Two

If you are interested in viewing this post, please visit

fracturedfaithblog.com and search the above title.

I’m not able to re-blog this as the wife to whom authored this post, blocked me. I’m speculating that she felt threatened by me, that he, a reformed catfish, was leaving genuine and heartfelt comments on my blog. As a woman who was cheated on, I can see how that would be triggering. Nonetheless, he was never inappropriate with his comments.

Fractured Faith Blog

I never considered myself a catfish until it was recently pointed out to me. I mean, my profile picture was me. I told people the truth regarding where I lived, what I did for a living, the nuts and bolts of my everyday life. But it pretty much ended there. Beneath the veneer of respectability I created a version of myself who was cooler, wittier, more outrageous than the very plain person sitting tapping on their phone.

I escaped into a fantasy, online world where everybody loved me and thought I was the best thing since sliced bread. I became increasingly detached from reality and the people who really mattered. Harmless half truths snowballed to become whopping great lies. I became a master at mind games and manipulating situations to my advantage. I let my family down, I let myself down. I was spiralling out of control. Always down.

It…

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Confessions Of A Recovering Catfish – Part One

If you are interested in viewing this post, please visit

fracturedfaithblog.com and search the above title.

I’m not able to re-blog this as the wife to whom authored this post, blocked me. I’m speculating that she felt threatened by me, that he, a reformed catfish, was leaving genuine and heartfelt comments on my blog. As a woman who was cheated on, I can see how that would be triggering. Nonetheless, he was never inappropriate with his comments.

Fractured Faith Blog

As a teenager I was chubby, shy and extremely quiet. Girls were a foreign species to me and my exploits on the sporting field left a lot to be desired. As a result, I was singled out for my fair share of bullying by both fellow students and, I’m sad to say, teachers whose supposed job was to protect me. Those years left their mark on me. I carry them still.

I retreated into a make believe world where the bullies could not reach me. I hid in books and wreaked revenge on my tormentors in the world of role playing where I could be anyone I wanted. What chance had my psychotic physics teacher against a 12th level berserker armed with the Warhammer of Doom? It was what I needed at that time of my life in order to survive.

And that’s how it continued. Oh, I dropped the…

View original post 516 more words


Mail call

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Desr Sophisticated Stephen

(from fracturedfaithblog.com)

Whets my letter?  😊

I’ve checked everyday for over a month.

You said you were halfway through writing it last month. 😉

It must be be as long as Homer’s Odyssey by now.  Lol 😂

Out with it man!

The suspense is killing me over here!

Your friend,

Magnanimous In Massachusetts

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In the red

I say this rather as a matter of fact.  Not to whine or complain. If anything, to vent I reckon.

I took on a massive amount of credit card debt supporting my fiancé while he was unemployed for the first 4 years of our relationship.   He went back and forth through 8 separate detoxes trying to get sober from alcohol.  He would get a year, then relapse.  Get a month then relapse.  And so on.  At his worst he was drinking a quart and a half of vodka a day.  Everyday.   He was vomiting blood many mornings.  (Esophageal varices)

His parents and other family had turned their back on him.  Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if I had asked him to leave. I loved him and as bad as things got, I didn’t have the heart to turn him to the streets.   He was suicidal, at times.   I felt like it would be my fault if something happened.  At one point he texted me he was leaving this world.  He did hang himself.  Police found him in respiratory arrest in the basement of a local building, emergency responders cut him down..  He was very lucky to have lived.

Today he has over 2 years of sobriety from alcohol.

On the one hand,  I feel it was a good decision to go into debt to support him.  Every person is valuable and worth saving.  On the other hand, when half your monthly income goes to paying debt it’s a suffocating feeling.   Especially when you are out of work on medical.

I feel mixed about my decision.  Had I left the relationship years ago I would not be in the massive debt.  Had I not helped him, he might not be alive.  The kids suffer from the debt the most.  There are things they go without.  So I guess that’s what hurts today.   I wonder if I’ll ever be able to pay it off?

Here is a song that made me laugh and reminds me of me.  Right down to the panic attacks.  LOL

To all those who are in the red for whatever reasons, know you are most certainly not alone, and this one’s for you! 🥃

 

 


So, I Cheated…

Reblog. Amazing writer!

Mellodie_Jae

It’s been a hard few months and as always I am constantly assessing and analyzing myself. I believe self- reflection is so important. I am always challenging myself to be the best version of me even when the odds are against me. In finding a better version of myself everyday, I search to heal all the parts of me that are broken, so that I can be that better person. I do understand though, that the journey to happiness is a lifelong journey, because life is ever changing. This is how cheating actually prepared me for commitment. I was in a relationship for almost 2 years, and I was sleeping with another man for the last year and half of it. It was shitty of me for SURE, but I am better for it actually.

In college I swore off dating, because I needed to discover who I was and…

View original post 1,118 more words


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