Thank you!

Dearest Donors,
I cannot express enough how much happiness you gave me this past week! I have been resistant to use DonorsChoose for a while now. For various reasons, ranging from the time it takes to set up, to thinking no one wanted to hear about another thing to feel bad about.

Well, was I amazed at the outpouring of support! I wish I could more accurately describe how I feel about all of you who shared my post, donated to the project, and donated to the general classroom fund! Middle School students and classrooms are frequently forgotten. When people think of "kids" it is the little ones that are often pictured and discussed. Thank you so much for not forgetting my awesome middle schoolers!

I can't wait for the fans and calculators to arrive! I know the kids will be exited to see the new fan! And they always ask to use a calculator to check their work! Now I will be able to fulfill this request, instead of saying, "Sorry, kiddo, we don't have those here."

With the donated general funds, I am looking at books. My classroom has only a handful of books to look at, and those funds will greatly help!

In closing, dear ones, know that you are so appreciated. By me, my students, and the Southeast community as a whole.

With Gratitude,

Ms Angell

The 18th of August

I wonder if he thinks about me today. I honestly doubt it. He moved right on into the arms of our friend. He didn't spend time alone. He went on to have a child. Something he told me he never wanted. I wasn't good enough. Not good enough to tell her "no", to tell our marriage "yes". I asked him, toward the end, to give our marriage a chance by stopping to see her. He said "no".

Over the last week, the vows we made kept creeping into my thoughts. I pushed them away. I remember looking into his eyes as we said our promises. But, he changed his mind. He changed his mind about his marriage to me and having children. It continues, to this day, to break my heart.

He promised to spend his life with me. He didn't. He promised to love and support me. He didn't. He had a lot of my sentimental belongings that he said he would eventually give back to me. He didn't. He was supposed to get my things from his mothers house, he didn't. On a side note, his mother never spoke to me again, even though she'd known me since I was 14, and I was a part of her family for over a decade, I held the hand of her husband, my father in law, as he died because she was too afraid. She never responded to my birthday or Christmas cards I sent. So, I just don't send them anymore. He said he would give me my kitty back, if ever he needed to be rid of him. He didn't. He gave my cat to his friend because I am sure the kitty was a last reminder of the life him and I shared, and they needed to erase me completely. He recently contacted a lawyer to get a hold of me regarding our car titles, didn't even email/text/call me himself, because, still, I am not worthy of a simple or seemingly gentle email.

Today was my wedding anniversary. Now, it is a day that reminds me of profound loss. My life has never been the same since. I am broken and damaged.

Hungry

The ache that I feel is deep. I cannot seem to find the words to truly describe it. It centers around my solar plexus, and oozes out. My bones burn from the heat of it.

The choices I have made as of late, reflects a unsatisfied hunger. It isn't a secret, that I hate how my life has turned out. I hate my divorced self. I hate the body that I live in. This hatred has given rise to an attitude of not really giving any fucks about extra curricular activities I have found myself engaged in. It is as if, I am an outsider looking in. I don't recognize the scenes I find myself in.

My battered and bruised emotional state appears to invite chaos. I get high off the chaos. It is dangerous. Yet, I continue to go back to it, more and more. I don't know how to kick this habit. I can feel myself going through withdrawal. I cry and thrash, and feel dead. The worthlessness that I have been called, feels very real.

So, I suppose in the meantime, I will continue to engage with whatever presents itself as an option, be it unhealthy or not. I can't seem to help it. Again, because I am worthless.

raw

These days have been hard. I spend most of my free time in bed, with the darkness covering me. I was asked recently two questions that caused me pause. "When was the last time you felt happy? What do you do for fun?" I haven't felt happy in a long time. However, I have grown increasingly better at faking it, and perhaps that is why I am so tired at 5pm.

I have lost 14 pounds so far this year. My self worth is directly tied to my body. Many of you have read about my disdain for the body in which I live. I cringe upon passing mirrors, I tug at the clothing the covers it, uncomfortable and annoyed at how they feel on my skin. I just want to shrink away to nothingness. With these few pounds of weight loss has come even more self destructive behavior. With every bite, the hate grows deeper. The roots continue to tangle in my veins. I can almost feel it strangling my very essence of self. While my close friends know of this weight loss, many don't until now. And it doesn't even matter. There is so far to go, and it just feels pointless and never ending. But I am starting to enjoy that emptiness feeling.

The self destruction is easy. The abusive relationships I engage in are a way to punish myself for all the wrong. I took Psych 101, I know what I am doing. To punish myself for how disgusting I have let myself become. Fat, alone, childless, and damaged. I allow these physical and emotional blows. I crave them now, I can't stand who I have become. So when he shows up, I allow it all to unfold however it will. So, don't tell me to stop, for it is clearly what I want and deserve. I detach from myself and live somewhere else, up on the ceiling, covering my eyes, at least until he leaves, where I reenter, and just weep for what I allow, for what hurts, and for how I know I will allow it again.

On this Valentines day, I am reminded, once again, of the touchless life in which I live. I was told about "cuddle con". A convention in Portland about platonic touch and how people were going to cuddle one another. My first thought was "that sounds kinda cool", and only a fraction of a moment later did I think "I would hate to make someone feel like they have to touch me". The touch that comes towards me now is only one of power and aggression. It is a strange dichotomy that I long to be held, and loved, and kissed, and desired, and at the very same time, I shrink away at the thought. There is not one cell in my body that believes anyone would ever want to do any of those things. If for a moment, they did, the thought of someone touching this body disgusts me. The touch that occurs now is not love, I know this. It is abusive, tragic, dark, and wrong. All the things I feel about myself manifested into.

Dear reader or friend, I apologize for the endless misery that I carry around with me. I just needed to or wanted to get some things out into the universe.