jpenseur; Introspective Personal Journal, Poetry, and Anthology.

 Life is difficult for a highly sensitive person. 

I don't feel like holding onto some of my relationships with people. I have this gut feeling at times that they don't really have my best interest at heart.

I know what's bad for me, and sometimes I keep myself in it because it feels right to torment myself. To punish myself for things I shouldn't blame myself for. For things I shouldn't be so hard on myself for. For things I can't control. It's self-sabotage. I have been doing this too often. Too much. I'm writing to remind myself to stop. To breathe. To look beyond and be better. 

At 25 people expect you to be running the world. What a ridiculous thing to see.

I dislike how performative my family can be. Why act better than you are in reality? I want to be person that has nothing to hide. 

You would expect a parent to be someone who pours all their love into their children. A role model. Somebody who builds people up. Encourages you. It's not the case for me. My father has always been somewhat absent in key moments of my life. I wouldn't say that he was never there. However, when he was, I never felt supported by him. When family is the focus of conversation, he always brings up ways we fail. Never our accomplishments, never our interests, never anything good. I grew up with a misconstrued perception of family.  I have always felt smaller than my father. Not because I lacked in any way, but because he tells me I do. I am a burden to him even when I help him with tasks he doesn't know how to do.  If I lash out in any way about the mistreatment. He tells me that my words don't hold weight because I have nothing to show for it. That all my accomplishments are worth recognizing. I don't have the greatest self-esteem as a result.  When things don't wor...

I feel lost. To be directionless and with little prospects, to me, is to be worthless. It's not fact but it's a reality we have been made to believe. A belief system that keeps me up a night with the symptoms of sorrow and dread. With little hope of recovery.