Tabitha White
Stories (24/0)
Love not Hate
Jealousy. Such an ugly and awful emotion. One that I feel regularly. Most of the time it stems from seeing I never had, witnessing a connection that I missed out on. Most of the time it rears its head in the least helpful times. It's hard to explain the pain I feel with it. Even harder to explain why I distance myself in these moments.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche
My Shadow
I’ve hit what I like to call a wall. Hehe, I’m sure you call it that too. But anyways, in more ways than one. I do this often, and mostly because I’m always looking down. I mean that literally and figuratively. I’m always watching my feet instead of looking where I’m going and I’m constantly finding flaws with all that I am and do. I don’t often think well of myself or my future and it causes me and those around me, harm. Once, when walking in the woods with Todd, I was so focused on my feet and whether or not I was going to trip, that I completely missed the branch coming at my face. That was a nice surprise, let me tell you.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche
Me and My Moods
Recently I started a bullet journal again and it’s been both helpful and frustrating. I’m realizing more and more how badly I am addicted to instant gratification, and at times it’s nauseating. I find my lack of patience, disturbing. My inability to wait for things, all things, is out of control lately. As I type this, I should be sitting in my therapist’s office explaining all of this to him. Sharing the emotions and rollercoasters of yesterday, of the last few weeks. Getting some much-needed weight off my shoulders. Instead, I am taking his advice and writing.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche
Back at It
Lately I've been feeling so many things at once it’s like I've been spinning for a week straight. I haven't had the energy to write or even come up with anything to write about. Mostly because after six weeks of not working, I went back to work. It's been a wonderful experience so far though, as exhausted as I am, I feel good about my decision to go back. I feel a sense of accomplishment that I wasn't feeling before.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Humans
The Cycle
Ever since I was little, I've been chasing the wrong things. The wrong dreams and goals. Never having any real direction or idea of what I really wanted from life. The last ten to fifteen years, I think I've just been on autopilot, not really going with the flow, but not really going my own way either. I've been lost and out of my mind with depression and anxiety so long, I don't know who I am outside of that. What do I really want? From myself and my life. Do I want to continue the way that I am, not really living?
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche
The Unexpected
Sometimes in life, the unexpected happens. Whether it's the death of a loved one, a car accident, or job loss, it seems there's always something lurking around the next corner, waiting to attack. But what happens when it's not a disaster waiting to strike? What if the unexpected ends up being one of the best things that ever happened to you? And what happens when your body is so hardwired to expect the worse out everyone in your life but then someone shows up and challenges that belief?
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Humans
Fears and Goals
I have a huge fear a failure. Huge. I question everything and whether it will fail. Jobs, relationships, parenting, even being friends with someone. Which is why writing like this every week is such a struggle. It amazes every time I get even a single read, let alone multiple! I am always second guessing myself and thinking it could have been better. Granted, there have been times in my life when I haven't tried. When I haven't put my best foot forward. For the most part, however, I am at constant war with my imperfections and how I let them limit me. There are things in my life that I allow to hold me back, that I let stand in my way. It’s usually just myself, doubting every move I make. Not letting my intuition guide me but instead allowing fear to swallow me up and hold me hostage in my own mind.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Motivation
Joann and Reginald Take a Walk
It was a beautiful morning and Joann, and Reginald were sunbathing on the back porch, watching the pond now and then or the small breeze through the trees beyond. It was a good day for relaxing in the sun. The phone rang, suddenly cutting the otherwise quiet morning, making Joan jump in her chair. She grabbed up her cellphone and pushed the accept call button.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Petlife
Self-Love not Harm
I think the first time I self-harmed was in fifth grade. I told my parents it was because I wanted to be blood sisters with the other girl who had raked both her wrists against the school building with me during recess one day. We had of course performed the whole “blood sisters” ritual, but it was about more than that. She was in deep pain, having recently lost her mother to suicide and I was dealing with things that were way above my age level to process. We were both crying out for help without even realizing it. When it became clear that I was in trouble for my actions, I lied instead of telling the truth, because that’s what I did back then. Rather than admit that I needed help, I told a partial truth in order to escape the real trouble of dealing with the real problem.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche
What Really Happened
Growing up we lived in a double wide trailer on the end of the street, in a neighborhood full of older people. We had a small back yard with a magnolia tree, garden, and grape arbor. Eventually we had a shed, but since I'd like to set it on fire, I don't talk about it much. (Not much of a story there but painting that thing red in the heat of summer is something I would never do again and something I'll never forget.) In the front, we had a porch connected to the house and a beautiful weeping willow tree at the corner of the yard. I didn’t know I loved my home until I found out I had to leave it.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Humans
If I Want to Move On...
There were times in my childhood and teenage years when my parents were “absent.” They both left me at times when I was transitioning and when changes were occurring. I should say, it wasn't all bad. I have fond memories with both parents and I'm grateful for the ones I do have. It’s hard for me, having the relationship with them that I do now, to put aside the past and move forward when so much of me is still in pain and hurting. Even in private, only to myself, I find it hard to talk or write about things that bring up painful memories or that might paint my parents in a bad light. Writing this I am knots knowing they might read this and hear me speak my true thoughts. Something I've rarely done with them throughout my life.
By Tabitha White3 years ago in Psyche