humanity

For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.

  • Kerri Rae
    Published about a year ago
    Labels

    Labels

    Ok. Gotta say.. because we all know that every once in a while, I need to rant. Here's today's. Just for fun.
  • Julianna mcburney
    Published about a year ago
    Fear of the Unknown

    Fear of the Unknown

    As a kid, my worst fear was ending up alone. With maturity came the realization that there are things much worse than that initial fear. Things like being with someone and still feeling alone. A broken relationship can make you feel more lonely than you had been single. I crave love, affection, consistency and so many more things that make me appear needy through your eyes. I’m lonely. And when I say I’m lonely I don’t mean in a physical way but I’m emotionally lonely. Physically, I’m not alone but mentally it’s as if no one is around. It gets tiring loving someone in all the ways they don’t love you. Year after year I became aware that the most painful tears aren’t the ones that had casually fallen from my eyes but the ones that had fallen from my heart and completely coated my soul. I once believed that I was too full of life to be half loved. But as time went by I found myself circling back to the homely routine of things. Mostly, I’m ashamed. Ashamed for sticking around for a person who makes me feel this way. You entered my life not knowing of all the baggage I carried around with me constantly. And in a way the result of this relationship is mostly my fault. I let you in thinking you would accept my flaws and faults and that one day you could eventually see past them and love even the rawest parts of me. That is where I went wrong. From the beginning I should have been loving myself the way I loved you. I found myself holding on because of the normality of things and for the fear of never finding another. I stayed because no matter how you made me feel, I loved you more than myself and I would put you before anything. But you see these feelings weren’t reciprocated. They were one sided and always in your favor. I have learned to be content with feeling lonely beside you. But during those rare days where we would watch those sappy love movies and I’d see those couples kissing and holding hands, I couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to feel genuine love like that. A love that doesn’t make you feel lonely and unsure of your worth. You have never once laid a hand on me. There have never once been any bruises plastered to my body. But there were bruises that you had tattooed on my heart and soul that weren’t just naked to those around me but had also been to you. When I was younger I used to believe that being alone was the worst outcome but now I am sure that what’s even worse is being with someone and still feeling alone.
  • Denise Willis
    Published about a year ago
    The Day I Died

    The Day I Died

    The day was perfect. The sun was shining and the birds singing while the wind had finally settled down. My roommate, Amy, and I were driving to town and singing along to the radio when I rounded a corner and immediately saw a car coming right at me, passing on a curve, and then he swerved to avoid me but hit the car behind him, spinning it around until it hit our car. The impact tossed our car and it rolled three times before coming to a stop off the side of the road.
  • Stormy Robertson
    Published about a year ago
    Hating People

    Hating People

    These past few years have been very painful; people I never would've imagined leaving, did; the things I never thought someone could use against me, were. But, I’ve learned something new about myself through all of the pain; I really just want to love everybody. I never would have hated him, no matter how much everything hurt. I can’t hate anybody. When my mom was killed, I did hate my dad for taking her from me. I hated him for years, until I realized I wasn’t getting anywhere; I didn’t even have anything tangible to hate anymore. There was no point in hating someone who had died, I wasn’t getting anything out of my anger. After realizing this, I couldn’t hate anyone anymore. I couldn’t rationalize hating the boy that lied to me for four years, but not hating the man that took my mother from me. It didn’t feel right. And after being lied to for years, how could I hate the next boy that only lied for a few weeks? I couldn’t find someone worthy of hating, which sounds odd but is true. So, I don’t hate. I can’t hate; and I think that’s what makes everything so confusing. People will hurt me, they’ll tell me to kill myself and I still can’t hate them. Day after day, I would wake up to messages detailing why I didn't deserve to be alive. Every day was just a waiting game for when the next message would come in. These people would use my past relationships and my parent's deaths against me. They'd tell me that no one would miss me and that I was ugly. Before bed, I'd get messages begging for that night to be the night I finally killed myself, in the morning I'd get greeted with disappointment that I didn't follow through with their suggestions from the night before. They convinced me everyone in my life hated me and were only in it because they felt bad for me. I received list after list, detailing how I could go about ending my life, or reasons why I should leave. Yet, I still have love for them. I still want to know who made them hurt this bad. I want to be their friend, I want to heal that hurt. So, I let them continue to push me down, because I know I can handle it. Life’s thrown me some killer curveballs, but I haven’t struck out yet (I don't understand baseball fully but I believe that metaphor works). Does what they say hurt? Yes. It hurts a lot. Will I kill myself over their words? No. I cannot imagine writing a note and telling my loved ones I’m no longer with them because an anonymous number told me to stop breathing. But, I was still hurting myself. I was letting these people validate everything I was telling myself, and in a way, I loved it. I was right, all the thoughts in my head were showing up on my phone screen. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. Just because I was still alive didn’t mean I was okay, I was simply alive because I didn’t want to die for a dumb reason. When the numbers told me that someone hated me, I cut myself from that person’s life. When they told me to eat less, I did. When they said to cut, I did. I was miserable, but never once did I want to report them. I didn't want them to get in trouble, because I believed this was how they needed to work through their problems. If I wasn't going to kill myself because of their words, what was the harm in letting them continue? I couldn’t block them because then they couldn’t heal, and that wasn’t fair to them. I cared more about these anonymous number’s health and safety than my own. I never cared how it was affecting me, as long as I could believe that those messages were helping them feel better about themselves. Because at the end of the day, I just want to love. I don't have room in my heart to hate, and I have no desire to. But, I’ve realized something: If I want to love everybody, I have to understand that I am part of everybody. I have to love me, too. Which is fucking terrifying. I had just spent a year or more letting anyone who needed to hurt me in the name of their own personal growth, do just that. How was I supposed to turn around and take that away from them and say that it was my time now? It seemed so selfish to me; I was putting what I wanted over what they wanted, a concept I had always seen as negative. But how negative can it really be when it's to keep me healthy? I didn't want to become rude, fighting anger with more anger was never my strong suit. But humor always has been; and messed up humor is where I excel. So, I began sending funny responses back. I'd be a smart ass; or I’d come up with a funny comeback. And I hoped with everything inside me that it would at least make them smile, because I did (and still do) wholeheartedly believe they deserve happiness. Everyone does. Everyone deserves to have that one thing that makes them want to get up in the morning.
  • Marissa Hall
    Published about a year ago
    Playing the Game

    Playing the Game

    I never understood the saying “you got to play the game” while shopping. What game was I forced to play and who was I playing for? That all changed when I went to T-Mobile to look at new phones.
  • Andria Rivera
    Published about a year ago
    Rising Up

    Rising Up

    I wasn’t looking ahead of me. I was glancing at the floor on that very dark and chilly night. My cell phone rang and I took my eyes off the lifeless road for one quick glance. I shouldn’t have. I looked up again and seemingly out of thin air, a deer, ran out in front of me. I swerved, then lost all control.
  • Jasmin Eddy
    Published about a year ago
    Journal (October 21, 2016 - October 28, 2016)
  • Hugo Sugg
    Published about a year ago
    Dr. Ford's Testimony Visualises My Inner Trauma. This Is My #MeToo Story

    Dr. Ford's Testimony Visualises My Inner Trauma. This Is My #MeToo Story

    **Warning: My experience talks about sensitive issues like bullying, alcoholism, sexual assault and suicide**
  • Jasmin Eddy
    Published about a year ago
    Journal (June 15-July 8, 2017)
  • Rachel Ann
    Published about a year ago
    Bullying

    Bullying

    Day 31, 10/06/2018
  • Harie Calder
    Published about a year ago
    The Day I Realised I Was an Adult

    The Day I Realised I Was an Adult

    University is a daunting place. It’s fun, exhilarating, manic, and basically bat-shit crazy most of the time. But its an isolating and cold place to be for anyone, regardless of how much you party, drink, get high, or even how many people you talk to on a regular basis. For the first time in any student's life, they’re painfully alone. It’s a terrifying realisation and sure enough when it finally hit you, it really is like running into a wall at 500 km/h. It stops you dead in your tracks, and suddenly this slow but gradual rise of fear and anxiety builds up, like a slowly flooding room.
  • Shannon
    Published about a year ago
    Humanity

    Humanity

    Humanity can be defined as quality of being human; the peculiar nature of man, by which he is distinguished from other beings. Being human does not mean that an individual possesses humanity.