Author Archives: Kayla Louise

Lately, I’ve found myself questioning if I’m actually the “crazy” one. The people around me seem to think so, and, honestly, it’s making me wonder if they’re right. There are days when my emotions feel so intense, so overwhelming, that it feels impossible to act like everything’s fine. It’s like I’m carrying this emotional weight that others can’t see, and it leaves me feeling disconnected, misunderstood, and, yes, even a little “crazy.”

The Need for Connection and Love

At the heart of it, I think a lot of my feelings come from a simple desire: to feel loved and valued. I want someone who genuinely cares about me, who’d miss me if I weren’t there, who’d bring me flowers just to brighten up a bad day. It sounds so basic, right? But sometimes, it feels like asking for these things is somehow too much—like I’m asking for a kind of love that’s unrealistic or “overly needy.” And yet, isn’t it normal to want to be seen, heard, and cherished?

The Weight of Misunderstanding

One of the hardest parts is the feeling that people around me don’t understand what I’m going through. When people label me as “crazy” or “overly emotional,” it feels like they’re reducing everything I am down to something that’s easy to dismiss. But my emotions are real, and they’re valid. I think a lot of people can relate to that feeling of being so overwhelmed that it’s hard to keep things bottled up. Yet, society doesn’t always know what to do with people like us, the ones who feel deeply and show it.

The Fine Line Between Self-Reflection and Self-Doubt

Sometimes, I wonder: do people who are actually “crazy” know that they’re perceived that way? Or is this label something we just use to distance ourselves from people who don’t fit the mold? When others tell me I’m “crazy,” it’s easy to start doubting myself. Am I really too much? Or is it possible that people just don’t understand what it’s like to feel things this strongly? It’s a difficult line to walk, balancing between introspection and self-doubt, trying to figure out if I really need to “fix” something about myself or just find people who accept me as I am.

Wanting More, But Not Knowing How to Ask for It

Maybe, at the end of the day, all I’m asking for is to feel valued. I want a connection that’s real, a person who brings light into my life simply because they care. I want someone who listens, who brings me flowers, who makes me feel like I’m not “too much” or “not enough” but just right as I am. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s just a fairytale or if it’s something real that everyone else seems to have figured out.

Conclusion: Embracing My Own Story

I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m not “crazy” after all—maybe I’m just someone who feels things in a way that others can’t always understand. And while it’s hard to be labeled or misunderstood, I’m learning to accept that my emotions are part of what makes me, me. I’m hopeful that one day, I’ll find someone who understands, who makes me feel seen and loved just as I am. Until then, I’m trying to honor my own journey, embracing the depth of my emotions, and reminding myself that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be valued.

For almost a week, he was nice to me. I thought maybe things were getting better. But then tonight, everything fell apart again. I’m not feeling well, and his snoring is louder than anyone I’ve ever heard. I asked him to sleep on the couch because I just needed some peace while I’m sick, and to my surprise, he agreed. But less than five minutes later, the name-calling started.

He called me every name in the book, as if he was waiting for an excuse to lash out. The insults cut deep, and the word he used most was “stupid.” He made sure to let me know how stupid he thinks I am. It hurt, but what’s worse is that sometimes I start to believe it.

Why do I keep staying? Maybe I am stupid, just like he says. But tonight felt different. Tonight, he threw things at me, something he’s never done before. It was a new level of fear. I’ve been telling myself I can handle the name-calling, but now…now I’m scared.

I want out. I need out. I can’t live like this anymore, and if I do, I know I’ll never get my daughter back. That thought haunts me the most. How did I let it get this bad? I’ve walked away from people for so much less before. Has he really destroyed my confidence so much that I think I deserve this? The truth is, I don’t.

But it’s hard. Leaving is hard when you feel like you’re trapped, when you don’t have the resources to just pack up and leave. Sometimes I dream of moving far, far away where he can’t find me, where I can start over. But that feels impossible right now. I’m stuck, and it’s overwhelming.

Still, tonight was different. The fear I felt was enough to remind me that I need to go. I deserve better, even if it’s hard for me to believe that right now. I’m writing this because I know that staying isn’t the answer. I don’t know how I’m going to leave, but I know I will.

I’m not as weak as he thinks I am, and I’m certainly not stupid. I’m scared, but I’m also determined. I have to be—for me and for my daughter.

Recently, something shifted in my relationship, and it all started the night I told my boyfriend I wanted to move out. His reaction wasn’t what I expected. Instead of talking things through or even getting upset, he changed – almost overnight.

When I came home that evening, the house was spotless. This was a huge surprise because when I left, it was a complete disaster. It must have taken him hours to clean everything. On top of that, he ordered my favorite Chinese food, something he never does. It felt strange but in a comforting way.

For days now, he’s been telling me how much he loves and appreciates me. We haven’t fought, not even once. He’s been going out of his way to make me feel special, and I have to admit, it’s been nice. But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all because of one thing: I said I wanted to leave.

While his sudden change is appealing, I know deep down that this isn’t going to last. This newfound behavior isn’t who he really is. It feels like a desperate attempt to make me stay. But what’s done is done, and the bridge between us has already been burned. I still want to move out, to go far away, and his actions – however sweet – aren’t enough to change that.

In a way, I’m choosing to play along for now. This period of being treated well is a relief, and it’s giving me space to plan my next steps. I need time to get my life in order, to figure out my move. But once that’s settled, I know where my heart is leading me – far away from here.

It’s important to recognize when you’ve already made your decision. Just because someone changes their actions doesn’t mean they’ve changed who they are. And for me, that realization is all I need to keep moving forward.

Today was my final straw. I’ve hit a point where I can’t continue like this. Let’s start from the beginning.

For a while now, I’ve wanted to move closer to my daughter. My boyfriend, however, only wants to move halfway because of his other children, which I initially understood. I tried to make peace with the compromise, but today everything shifted.

I was reminded of something from two years ago, when we first started dating. Back then, he was planning to move to Florida and leave his children behind. So, when he now says he can’t move just an hour away to be closer to my daughter, but would have moved to Florida to be with someone else—it broke something inside me. I was angry, really angry, to the point that I started to cry.

What happened next made everything worse.

I wanted to talk things out, to figure out where we stood, but he refused. He didn’t want to talk at all, and instead of dealing with the issue, he called the police on me. Let me explain: I was emotional and frustrated, yes, but I wasn’t expecting him to escalate things like that. It was embarrassing and hurtful beyond belief. I already feel like the neighborhood “nut,” but now? Now I’m the one who had the police show up because my boyfriend couldn’t handle a conversation.

That moment felt like a betrayal, a deep one. How could someone who says they love me turn to such an extreme response? How could he not talk through something that’s tearing me apart? I told him I couldn’t do this anymore—that I needed to move out. I can’t keep living in a house that’s too big for me, just so his kids can stay twice a month, especially when I can’t even have my own daughter nearby.

Maybe I could have stayed. Maybe we could have worked it out. But the fact that he called the police on me—that’s something that can never be taken back. It’s a line that’s been crossed, and there’s no coming back from it.

Now, I have to find a way forward. And that way doesn’t include him.

How does that sound? Would you like to add or change anything?

There are moments in life when anger and hurt boil over, and today, I’ve reached my breaking point. I literally hope my boyfriend chokes on his food tonight. I have never felt such an intense level of hatred for someone I once cared about, but here I am, done with the endless cycle of physical and mental abuse, manipulation, and gaslighting.

Things had been better for a while, or so I thought. That’s why I hadn’t written much lately—because there was hope. But today shattered any illusions I had left.

Last night, he barged into the bedroom at 1 a.m., shining his phone’s flashlight, disrupting my sleep yet again. I told him if he’s going to come in that late and be so loud, he should sleep on the couch. I only manage to sleep until 4 a.m. most nights because of him, and I dared to ask for peace. But when I woke him up later for snoring, that’s when he completely lost it.

His response? He screamed that he hated me, called me a piece of shit, and unleashed a string of insults for something as small as me asking him to stop snoring. All I wanted was a little rest. But what I got was a reminder of just how deep his anger and resentment towards me go.

The silence that followed today was just as painful. He ignored me all day, as though nothing had happened, like I wasn’t still angry, hurt, and drowning in hate. And just when I thought I might be able to hold it together, he drops another bombshell. After getting home from work, he tells me he’s going out to dinner with friends, and then he blocks me.

We were supposed to have dinner together.

I feel so much rage, so much bitterness, that I can barely think straight. It’s hard to see past the storm of emotions. All I can think about is how much I want him to pay for what he’s done. The part of me that’s been beaten down, emotionally bruised, and gaslit for too long wants him to feel the same pain he’s caused me. Maybe it’s wrong to think like that, but it’s how I feel right now.

I’ve spent so long hoping things would change, holding on to moments that seemed good, that made me believe it could get better. But they were just brief respites in a sea of abuse and manipulation. Maybe he does deserve all the bad things happening in his life, like only seeing his kids twice a month. Maybe he deserves worse.

I’m not proud of these thoughts. But they are honest. They are raw, and they are mine.

For anyone reading this, I want to say something important: if you are feeling like this, if you’re stuck in a similar cycle of pain and abuse, know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel angry and hurt, but more than that, it’s crucial to protect yourself. I don’t have all the answers, but I know that I can’t keep living like this. And neither should you.

No one deserves to feel this way. Not me. Not you. Not anyone.

Relationships can be challenging, especially when they involve children. Today was one of those difficult days where I felt completely overwhelmed and misunderstood. I had a great day, but it all unraveled when I came home to a stressful evening.

My boyfriend told me his kids would be in bed by 8:30 PM. So, when I walked in at 9:30 and found them still awake, I was surprised. A 5- and 7-year-old shouldn’t be up that late, especially during the school year. I asked him why they were still awake, but my concern was met with anger. He accused me of being rude to his kids, and the whole situation escalated quickly.

What frustrates me more is that he often questions whether these kids are biologically his, yet he’s fiercely defensive of them. I understand that parenting is complex, but I didn’t expect to be yelled at for bringing up what I thought was a reasonable concern. His reaction left me feeling hurt and powerless.

I know it’s not fair to blame the kids, but sometimes I just wish things were different. It’s hard to watch our relationship fall apart every time they’re here. It feels like I’m walking on eggshells, never knowing when something I say will set him off.

I wish I had something positive to say about the situation, but right now, I just feel drained and defeated. Relationships are supposed to be about support and understanding, but it’s hard to find that balance when emotions are so high. Tonight, I’m left questioning everything, wondering if there’s a way to navigate this chaos or if I’m just fooling myself.

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Today was one of those days I feared—a bad therapy session. It didn’t even last five minutes before my partner stormed out, cursing at the world. I tried to be honest and told him I felt uncomfortable when his kids are here, and that they seem uncomfortable too. This triggered him, and he accused me of lying about everything I said.

It feels like a hopeless situation. Who would people believe: a woman struggling with mental health, or a man who looks like a hero for “putting up with me” for the past year and a half? After this session, I’m left feeling defeated and without hope for the future. I don’t want to try anymore, but I’m also afraid to start over. My mind is a mess, and I’m not even sure what to think or write right now.

I know I need some time to process everything. Maybe I’ll have more clarity later, but for now, I just needed to get these thoughts out.

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I feel like I’m getting sick. I haven’t had a single day off in three weeks, and my body and mind are crying out for rest. The stress is building up, and I’m struggling to keep up with everything on my plate. Between work, life, and trying to maintain a relationship, it’s overwhelming. I know I need to slow down and take care of myself, but it feels impossible right now.

One of the biggest stressors is couples counseling. I’m scared to be honest because there’s something I desperately need to say to my partner: his kids are too much for me when they come over. It’s not the children themselves, but the way he treats me when they’re around. It’s like I don’t exist or, worse, I’m treated poorly. I love the way he is when we’re alone, but the change when they’re here makes me resentful. I know it’s not fair to the kids; it’s not their fault. I should be angry with him, not them, but it’s hard to separate those feelings.

I wish I could enjoy having his kids over, but every time they visit, it’s a disaster. We both seem scared and awkward, and it creates a cycle of tension that just doesn’t end. I’m torn between wanting to escape and wanting to make things work. The thought of booking a hotel room every weekend just to avoid this mess crosses my mind more often than I’d like to admit. I keep telling myself that maybe it’ll get better once they’re older and don’t spend as much time with their dad, but that’s a long way off, and I’m not sure I can wait that long.

On top of all this emotional turmoil, there’s the financial stress. I’m working hard to pay off debts, but it’s a slow process. During my unpaid maternity leave, I fell into almost $20,000 of debt. I’ve managed to pay off half, but it still feels like a huge mountain I’ll never climb over. Saving money seems impossible, and I’m losing hope that I’ll ever be able to buy a house or a new car, let alone achieve the other dreams I’ve had for so long.

I keep trying to think positively and trust that things will get better, but it’s hard. Maybe I just need to stop hoping and see where life takes me. For now, I’ll try to focus on small victories, like paying down my bills, and take it one day at a time. I’m confused, exhausted, and overwhelmed, but I’m still here, and I’m still trying. That has to count for something, right?

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I’ve noticed something strange about myself lately: the more I work, the more emotionally numb I feel. It’s like I’m so tired that I don’t even have the energy to experience my emotions fully. But whenever I take time off to rest, I end up melting down. I don’t know what to do with my free time, and instead of feeling relief, I spiral.

Oddly enough, working doubles and juggling two jobs keeps me stable. When I’m too exhausted to go crazy, life feels bearable. It’s not that I enjoy this pace, though—I don’t. I wish I could have free time without falling apart, without turning it into a chaotic scene. It feels impossible, but I want to get there. I really do.

How Did It Come to This?

I’m already in multiple therapies, trying to work through these feelings. The only thing that truly seems to help is being so tired that I can barely function. But that’s not living—it’s just surviving.

I miss my daughter terribly. I haven’t seen her since my birthday on the 13th, and every day feels like a reminder of how far I’ve drifted from the person and mother I want to be. I want to get better, to be the mom she deserves, but I can’t even seem to take care of myself. Most days, I’m lucky if I brush my teeth once.

The Weight of Wanting to Be Different

There’s this image I have in my mind of “the other moms”—moms who seem to have it all together, who can take care of their children and still maintain some sense of personal balance. I wish I could be like them. I wish I could bring my daughter back into my life, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, as the mother I dream of being.

Right now, my thoughts are all over the place. If this post feels scattered, that’s because my mind feels exactly the same. I just want to relax, to have peace, and to stop feeling so out of control when I’m not working myself into the ground.

Where Do I Go From Here?

I don’t have the answers yet, but I’m working on it. This is the journey I’m on: trying to find balance, trying to get back to myself, and ultimately, trying to be a better mom for my daughter. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I want change. I want to heal. I just need to figure out how.

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Today was a good day. I forgot what that even felt like. Maybe it’s because I called out of work yesterday. Taking a breather definitely helped. Right now, I’m working two jobs, five days a week at both, and the exhaustion is catching up to me. I don’t get a day off, and it’s draining. But today, I didn’t feel overwhelmed. Work was just… work. Not great, not terrible. I guess that’s a win in itself.

In the evenings and weekends, I work at a restaurant, and during the weekdays, I’m a special ed teacher. Balancing these two jobs is tough, to say the least. But today, for once, I didn’t feel sad or angry. I wouldn’t say I was happy either, but “blah” is better than the usual emotional whirlwind, right?

One thing that made today stand out was a conversation I had with my partner. It was an emotional one. He came home and apologized—really apologized. He talked about how he treated me when I was pregnant, how much damage he had done to me during that time. It was… cathartic. Seeing him acknowledge my pain, seeing him feel hurt because of the pain he caused—it felt good. I wanted him to feel that, to really understand the weight of it.

I asked him what had caused this sudden change of heart. He told me about a girl at work who announced her pregnancy today. Her boyfriend was there too (we all work together). My partner congratulated them, but her boyfriend suddenly revealed that they weren’t planning to keep the baby. And my partner saw it—the look of sadness and hurt on her face. It struck him hard. He realized that’s how I must have felt when I was going through it all, and that hit home for him.

She confided in him about the pain she’s been carrying, and it made him reflect on everything he had put me through. It feels like a small victory, knowing he’s beginning to understand. I want him to truly feel the weight of the hurt he caused me. Maybe this is the first step in the right direction—towards healing, for both of us.

I don’t know what comes next, but today was a start.