Stormy Robertson
Bio
I'm just a kid writing what I'm passionate about.
Stories (17/0)
How to End It
1. First thing first, why did you click on this link? - What parts of yourself lead you to believe you don’t have the right to be here anymore? Is it your sensitivity, your forgiveness with the wrong people, or your ability to always see the good in people? Or is it your bitterness, and your apparent inability to forgive yourself for getting hurt again? Well, now’s the time to forgive yourself, you aren’t going to get anything more out of beating yourself up about it. Take some time to really think about this question. Write down your answer on a piece of paper. Explain how it explicitly means you no longer have a place here with us. It has to be at least a page, which should be no problem since it's so bad that you don't deserve to see things get better.
By Stormy Robertson4 years ago in Psyche
For the Ones Who are "Too Much"
Let’s start this off by stating the obvious: You are a strong bitch. I do not give a fuck what anyone else says. You are alive and you are strong. No one - absolutely fucking no one - who knows your story can say anything differently. You went through what people have nightmares. But you didn’t get to wake up to make them stop. You grew up around people who had no idea what it felt like. And you were surrounded by people who all had an opinion on how you should be handling it, with none of them being how you were. You are allowed to feel things! The people that love you, really love you, will stay even when you are sad. If you being sad is too much for someone, let them leave. It is not worth it to make yourself smaller just so they can be comfortable. You should not have to pretend you are not hurting because you’re scared of how they will feel. And no matter what they say, they would not handle it better than you. That’s the thing; the people who tell you they’d handle your trauma better than you, are the people who have the privilege of never going through your trauma. They have absolutely no idea how it feels, and I promise if they did, it would hurt them just as bad as it hurt you.
By Stormy Robertson4 years ago in Humans
Who Really Gives a Fuck?
Sometimes it’s someone whose opinion you couldn’t care less about. But sometimes it's someone who you couldn’t care more about. No matter what you do, they always have something negative to say about you and always assume the worse about any of your actions. And sure, you have people who tell you the opposite every single day, but that’s just because they have to, right?
By Stormy Robertson4 years ago in Humans
I Am Disgusting
My name is Stormy, and I am disgusting. Here are the most commonly cited reasons, as to why: My shorts are too short. Sometimes I wear a white t-shirt, and a red bralette, and it isn’t classy. The fact that I force other people to have to see me in tight clothes is disrespectful. I have scars all over that I can’t even pretend are from something else, and it’s an obvious cry for attention. Two cookies are way more than I should be eating. Also, at some point I’m going to have to forgive him, it’s my fault. And I really should be over what happened by now, it’s been 14 years.
By Stormy Robertson5 years ago in Psyche
I Have a Really Nice Ass
I always took an extra 15 minutes to make sure my eyeliner was as even as possible and my eyelashes weren't clumpy in the slightest. I wore my retainer every night so my teeth stayed straight, and I always used whitening strips on the weeks I drank coffee. I glued on fake nails so often that I went through three tubes of glue since school started.
By Stormy Robertson5 years ago in Humans
To My Friends
I love you. You are truly one of the best things to have ever happened to me. I’m not easy to get along with, I know that. Being around someone who doesn’t know how to be happy by herself is a lot, but I am so grateful you deemed me worthy of that work. You’ve shown me more than I would’ve ever learned myself. Thank you for treating me like a person, and not a burden. Thank you for teaching me that I am worthy of being loved. Thank you for your unwavering support, it means more than I will ever be able to articulate.
By Stormy Robertson5 years ago in Humans
What Depression Can Look Like
7/15/2018 I think I love people that don't love me because I'm scared of worrying people. The people that really care notice things, and they worry. But when all he loved was my body, it was easy to hide everything. I could continue destroying myself, I just had to be strategic where I took it out on myself. Short shorts and t-shirts can hide more than you'd think. When you don't go on dates, it's easy to hide that you aren't eating. I could pretend to be okay for an hour or two each day, it was easy. It was so fucking easy to just be a body. I wasn't depressed, I wasn't anxious, I wasn't relapsing. I was my body and that was it. He didn't care so he never noticed. And I think that's why I loved him so much, he cared about me as much as I cared about myself.
By Stormy Robertson5 years ago in Psyche
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.
By Stormy Robertson6 years ago in Humans