Thank you so much, guys. For being such incredible followers. The bummer is that I think a couple of poisons have made secret Tumblrs and followed this blog, so I need to ditch it in order to fully ditch them. But you guys have been incredible and so very helpful and I would not be here if it weren’t for your help.

I AM going to keep this blog up, since there is so much history here. I can’t just trash what I have here. So it will stay. I have already followed a couple of you on my new blog. I will probably follow more. If you want the new URL, send me a message ASAP. I got a large quantity of amazing messages, so I lost track, but I will respond to all that come in for the next few days.

Unfortunately, there will be some people that I will have to wait a while to give the URL to, some maybe not at all, simply in worries that it may get back to that negativity.

In other news, I have officially been prescribed anti-depressants.

I took my first one today. I am very nervous. Because I am worried about the side effects. And today, all day, all I have felt is guilt. So terrible, just so terrible. And anytime I’m around somebody I just feel like they’re angry at me or creeped out and all I want to do is apologize and keep saying sorry sorry SORRY.

I still feel genuinely sorry.

So there you go.

Not much else to say.

To those of you who sent me such amazing words, THANK YOU. I’m sorry I have not gotten back to all of you, I am quite drained and antisocial and, according to the doctor this morning, suffering from SEVERE depression. Fucking severe. But know that I appreciate every last word.

My eyes have been opened to a fuller reality of my “relationship” with Martin, and the realization of the rape within in. It was toxic. Until all of my realizations today, the manipulation stifled everything. Before being with him, I went through EMDR therapy, where I worked on telling my brain that I am worthy and deserve good things. My brain was telling me otherwise. And now, after spending time with him, his manipulation and psychopathic tendencies have made me teach myself that I am terrible and worthless and deserve to be abandoned and nobody will care if I die.

I stifled the sadness that he instilled in me, and it finally bursted out, sadly through severe temptations of suicide.

Luckily, I know for a fact that I would never actually kill myself. I’ve been going to therapy since 4th grade. I know better than that. But this is the worst it has been in years. Since 10th grade. I’m finally not hiding anything. I’m not devaluing my emotions.

I am not okay. But I will be. I am watching myself. I am sticking close to the friends that have always been there, checking in once in a while, even with a hello. Not with the ones that suddenly came out of the woodwork when I got suicidal. I know they all care, and I love you all, but I need honest friendship right now.

Thanks again. So much. For everything. You guys have put up with so much from me, and I REALLY appreciate it.

From ChienAndelusia to FictionalDetails to Mangerzone to BitchThirsty (I am so classy, look at me with my URLs), it has been something else. My love for Tumblr is really about the people.


If you want my new URL, even if you’ve already messaged me asking for it, message me again in the next few days. I will respond privately. Maybe. I don’t know.



Any words will do.

I had to put this on youtube. Because it wouldn’t load on Tumblr for some reason.

So here.


Yeah. And stuff. Any words please.

Hello Madeline,

Forget about the internet for a second. And remember that you are putting this here for yourself. So that in the future, if you ever again feel like you are weak and incapable, you can come here and find this to remind yourself that you are incredible.

Remember this moment. Packing up your room and taking down your wall of vintage family photographs, stumbling upon your makeshift urn for Toby’s ashes. Your best friend, the greatest dog, in a little case guarded by her collar. You picked it up and instantly felt warm. Your face tightened, clogged with the tears you had not felt coming on. You pulled her to your chest and started sobbing. And you instantly felt relaxed. You gripped the urn to your heart as tight as you could and felt proud. Because this wasn’t sadness. This was pride.

You made it. On your own. You reached the point where you could see yourself cleaning out the room filled with pain. The room you were the loneliest in that you have been in your entire life. The room where, for at least four months, you spent literally every night falling asleep thinking of all the ways you could kill yourself without hurting anybody else. The room where you realized what love most certainly isn’t. The room where yourself was taken from you. Multiple times. Without your knowledge or permission. Fainting from not eating. Vomiting from panic attacks with a heartless, sleeping body ignoring you on your bed. Headaches from screaming. All of the pain you put yourself through. The sadness of a lost dog and far family.

Now here you are. Hugging what you can. Really knowing that this is what “getting better” feels like. Not being sad that Toby is gone, but being glad that she was ever there in the first place. Seeing your mother, young, having made it through all that she has as well. Feeling proud of her strength, glad she instilled it in you. Finally able to breathe and take this room apart, not feeling resentful about anything, feeling the baggage lifting, being alive to know how much and how well you really did survive.

Keep this here to remember that you are more than capable of surviving and being happy.

It’s not actually difficult, it’s just being alive.

Now breathe in


Breathe out


And don’t worry. You are in control and you are okay.

So this guy I’m hanging out with tomorrow night texted me and was like,

"Pizza or chinese tomorrow night? (your answer will determine what I eat now)"

And then he added a tongue smiley face thing, WHICH MADE ME SO LESS NERVOUS, because I would hate to be watching Tim and Eric and probably lots of Bebop with somebody who thought they were too pretentious for a smiley face and it was like, the first texting encounter we’ve ever had and he bases his simple life decisions like dinner foods off of other peoples decisions and hey all we’re doing is watching tim and eric and he has an excellent beard I think and so


I’ve been his friend on Facebook since like, my first week of my Freshman year. Dreemz.

I am seriously considering only typing in all caps when I’m hardcore PMSing, because I don’t always get this bad, but it would certainly be a fair warning for incredible mood swings, lots of pictures of curvy ladies and like, food in everything.




The top priority and best part of having a smart phone is that deciding to play Sims does not mean that you have to abandon the last shred of an attempt at a social life that you have aka social networking sites for three to four to twenty four hours.

Really tempted to make myself a “Sorry I’m such a heartless bitch” cake, and then eat it in the middle of my bedroom floor whilst crying into it and sipping on booze, staring at myself in my huge mirror, watching episode 80 of Dragon Ball Z over and over again.

Because I am Super Saiyan.

I have the biggest, fattest, school girliest crush on the guy who runs Student Financial Services and I always make eyes at him and he knows it and OLDERRRRRR MENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN,



*remembers Oprah no longer has a show*


Getting over my stupid subconscious fear of not always having a person around who is cute who will tell me I am cute, no matter what. Because that is selfish and unfair and mean. And I do not want to be that person.



I don’t know what to do with all of these life decisions and I don’t want to face the facts of having lots of packing to do and lots of work as well, so I’m just going to make a toaster strudel.

There’s a segment of shame set aside for that moment when you finish a huge thing of Arizona tea and just want like……..five more.


Hating Justin Bieber no longer a fad. You can all stop pretending now.