the art of perfectionism and belonging

Mon. 1/6/2025

the dog is outside bouncing his ball, there's a string hanging from my bandaid that i want to cut so badly.

i saw her today, she looked like the sun.

she wore a trench coat and a light blue turtleneck, wire-framed glasses and black pants.

natural beauty is something to adore.

but oh, so sad.

how were we two little girls, laughing at school. years later, her reaching out to me, hoping to find something there.

years later, us as adults, living in our own houses, taking drugs for mental health issues, feeling too sick to do anything but go to work and back home, feeling too depressed to clean the table the right way. stacking.

us, years later, standing in front of my purple SUV. two lonely women, family blocked because of the damage caused. no friends who truly understand. her, a plane ticket to new york. me, a plane ticket to italy.

trying to force a laugh, force a joke, but it ends in silence. oh, we tried. heading back to the house. 

years later, the both of us trying to win the battle of eating, canceling on plans.

depressed, and another hangout failed. the movie theater cold but quiet and uncomfortable.

i have hope, however.

and i remain positive until the end, just like God wants me to be.

beautiful, blissful love.

breathe through me.

we will always have pains.

we all go our own ways, as long as it amounts to something.

and i will go, and this suffering will amount to something, and i will have a smile on my face.

because God still sees me.

and He will not let His daughter fall.

Thu. 1/9/2025

God heals. God heals, God heals, God heals.

Sat. 1/11/2025

Here I go again.

Writing, writing, journaling.

I will not let the devil win.

For God is with me, and God is protecting me, my Lord and my lighthouse.

I have finally come to terms with my past, my past self is my past self. 

And I will reach healing.

God is healing me right now.

God is healing me right now.

I got rid of everything bothering me.

Everything that might have an ulterior motive.

Oh God, how I love you. Father, Father, Father, hold me.

Hold me, hold me, hold me Father.

Remind me I belong to you.

For i am the philosopher, the tin ballerina box that opens up to so many things inside.

Your words will not return to you void.

Your words will never return to you void.

i was foolish to think i could strive to be the past amanda, to go back to the past amanda. to make my goal returning to being who i once was. i cannot force myself to be something of the past, that knows less than i do now, that hasn't been through what i am going through now. 

i have to stay with myself, and the person God is making me to be now, and not trying to undo myself. 

the past amanda had her amazing, beautiful moments. but the present amanda is blooming.

Sun. 1/12/2025

I had another hard day, but i'm here again. and I'm trusting God for healing.