Escape the Maze

I've stopped myself from loving. I've prevented seeds from growing, afraid I wouldn't be able to care for them. They might be planted in enriched soil, but they would never get the sun or rain they would need. I've ripped out bits of green poking out of the ground, because they were growing too strong for my liking. I stare at blossoming fields in jealousy, because my flowers aren't that pretty. Yet, I don't let them grow. I tear them at the roots, pull them from the dirt, because I am afraid. What if my flowers aren't beautiful? Maybe they will require more nurturing than I can provide. I prefer having no flowers at all, a simple patch of healthy soil, than flowers that might not even fully bloom. I found this note on my phone, last edited in August of 2015. It hurts me to say this, but even today I still feel this way. I have been struggling with this very phenomenon a lot lately. Love is a funny thing. Every day, every person I talk to, I have to fight...

This past week hasn't been easy for me, and I've been writing lots of angry rants. They're piling up on my phone and in my mind and I need to get them out, need to get rid of them, even if no one sees it, even if it will hurt some people, I just have to let it go and I can't do that if they're just sitting in my own dark corner, I need to set them free so I can let go of them. The problem with chocolate is, as soon as I take the first bite, I'm craving it for like a week. I don't actually care enough to do something about it. It's days like this, when I just don't care enough, that throw me off track the most. I want to eat something and I know I shouldn't, so either way I lose. Either I eat some crap I shouldn't or I force myself to not eat and end up hungry. I don't know which is the worse of the two. Usually I eat shit just because not eating is a terrifying habit that's much more addicting. Either way I end up tired and in pain....

I just noticed the strangest thing. I consider myself a relatively open person, sharing my stories and experiences with no second thought. I will always be honest about how I'm feeling, and I will allow you to see me with no shield stopping you. But I also realize that I fight every step of it. I will tell you my trauma, and then hold against you the way you react. I will tell you truthfully what my emotions are, but I won't always tell you why. I will tell you I have difficulty trusting you, but I won't show you the extent of it. If you enter my life, I guarantee you will hurt me. Not because you mean to, or because I am overly sensitive. In fact, people say many things to me that others would find offensive, and I do not. No, you will hurt me because I want you to. I search for a way, a reason, to prove to myself that you are not trustworthy. I will put you in uncomfortable positions because I want to show myself that you will always end up hurting me. I do this uncon...

Busy few weeks, boys galore. There was a time in my life, not so long ago, that I truly believed that there are no good men in this world. Although I've met plenty of boys, guys, and men, more often than not they have turned out to be completely different from what I thought, hoped and expected. Many of them have disappointed me, even those I didn't expect much from. In short, I have been let down by boys many times. Recently, I realized that not all men are the same. Not in a cliche way either. It's not that before I thought all men were the same, I was just so deeply touched and traumatized that it was hard for me to even hope that there was a decent guy somewhere out there. It took multiple years, but I have started to open my mind and accept guys. In general, throughout my life, I have tried not to judge people, to accept everyone and make everyone feel validated. But as one of my friends pointed out to me, I often only extend that kindness to girls and women. While I...

Exhausted. Hurting. Happy. These past few days, weeks, months? have all blurred into a few short moments. Between sleep and pain, work and travel, I can't keep track of time that passes. How am I doing? Fine, good. I'm making friends, but next week I'm leaving them. I've had such loud thoughts, that disappear as soon as I start to write. Coffee slows me down. I've never had such silence. All that time alone, just me and my thoughts and instagram poems. So many words, how can I be significant in the ocean of writers? Every time I read something or its comments, my inspiration goes up. This is what I want to do, what I want to be. I can't wait til it's my book being released. How I'd love to inspire people, motivate them, make them feel the way others make me feel. I've been writing a lot lately, but no one has seen it. My notebook is stashed, I've been sleeping with it under my pillow. It's easier for me to access it there. Work is good for...

If you've known me for more than two months, you probably met me as Riki. Today, when I introduce myself, I prefer Rebecca. For about three years now I've been looking for a name. At the beginning, it was as my online name. I was always taught growing up that you never give out real information online, so I searched until I found a name that I thought could suit me. That name lasted about a year or so, before being switched out. I've gone through maybe four names since then, and different variations on them. There was only one that I particularly connected to, and it was actually one that I never ended up using. If you ask any of my close friends, they will tell you nicknames they have for me. I have a dozen friends who each call me different names, and I respond to all of them by second nature. My parents also call me lots of different names, and have for years. When I was born, Riki was the name they chose for me to be known as. Growing up, that's who I was. Unt...

On December 21st, I went into the army. The next three weeks were dedicated to basic training. I had ups and downs, laughs and cries. I made new friends, friends I'm planning on staying in touch with for a long time. I had panic attacks, met with psychologists. I almost passed out, went to the nurse, the doctor, got sent for blood tests. I got yelled at and encouraged, I was tired and energetic. A whirlwind of emotions, senses, experiences, in only three weeks. Each day was excruciatingly slow, each week passing miraculously fast. My commander was one of the nicest people I've ever met, genuinely caring and encouraging, a really sweet woman. I'm keeping her updated on my army service as well, and she truly is interested and wants the best for me. I was with 5 other girls in my room. We really bonded over the three weeks, talking about everything from boys to food to life experiences. We spoke about our commanders, made guesses over what would happen that day, and gushed...