Love Your Future Self, TODAY; A Lesson in the Wrong Choices.

Free writing.

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There are moments in time that I look back on; and I am grateful that my life has moved on; and that time does indeed heal old wounds.

It’s not so much that they have healed, per say. I guess it’s just more of an acceptance that it cannot be changed, no matter how much I would like to change it, or erase it.

In very many circumstances I am glad for that, because I don’t want to go back in time at all. It totally sucked. Changing it wouldn’t be right, or true anyways.

There ARE things I wish I didn’t know, about the world; and myself as well. It was way easier to live unaware of them and denying; although my gut always made me unblissfully “aware” anyways somehow…and then my OCD took over until I found out for sure, every single time.

All it took was time. Sometimes, lots of it.

That’s just how I am. 

I have spent my life consciously and unconsciously ignoring and tricking myself into many things; until I couldn’t anymore…and I was forced to find out and realize the truth…start living life, on life’s terms…and save myself.

My truth generally hurts.

The accepting part doesn’t go so well with my brain. I’ve had PTSD for years, before finally being diagnosed formally three years ago. That was something that I became in the end, grateful for; because it explained a lot to me really, about the way I am…and how I could manage myself and my symptoms. Got me to thinking about my future.

I struggle a lot in the world of today, because I don’t like the way the world runs; and the fact that the world is pre-occupied with everything sexual, easy, and fake.

I got sucked into that world.

I have put myself out there on the internet in the past, for everyone to see…and they did. It was on selected sites, and then it eventually became Facebook groups.

Because of it; it led to a divorce; people cyberstalking me; hacking me; physical, verbal and emotional abuse; rape; people doing illegal things with my images and videos all over the internet. Slander of every form. Death threats. Blackmail. Extortion threats. (that one was ridiculous). My images were sent to my family members, and illegally posted on my own Facebook page…and everyone saw it all. 

Yeah, I’m glad time has moved on from that. To this day there is a scar on my psyche from it all, that can be quite hard to bear. 

It’s the opposite side of a success story, that felt in the end, more like a daily death sentence…and it was no fun living it, in any way.

It was traumatizing because a lot of the abuse was done by people I used to trust and care about.

It was traumatizing, because I did it to myself; if you want to get really technical about it. I had already posted other compromising pictures of myself in the past.  I lived in the behavior for a long time too; up until about three years ago…as far as the recent past goes, and really off and on my entire life.

I very well could have done a million different things in the porn industry throughout my life, and have been offered on many occasions, legit work for money, that I would not do. It was just not something I wanted to be in. 

It is not a good feeling, when people try to bribe you with money, to try to get you to compromise yourself in unsafe ways. I was already compromising myself enough…and you’d think, I would have “grown up”, quicker.

I started to think about it all tonight.

Every day I give myself credit for those bad decisions that I did not make; because they were very wise ones. 

I think it was something of Devine intervention in those cases, that I am not further recouping from my nonsense regarding my “porn phase”.

For what people do know of it though… It’s enough, and too much. 

I compromised my body in various ways for many things in the past, and it is not a good thing to have to admit; but it could have been something way worse, and way more no coming back from, than it has been for me.

I have to look at it that way.

I do not know why I did some of the things I did. I only know that I was out of control; in personal relationships that were not happy, and abusive emotionally; and I was also in active addiction off and on; trying to hide it. I felt like, sex was all anybody wanted from me; and the attention I got from it, FED my damage, my addictions… my pocketbook, and the way I felt about myself. 

I hated everything that was me.

My worst point was in 2013. I was actively hustling, prostituting, and compromising myself for four months.

I did it for drugs and money.

I wanted to die, every day.

Every day, I wished I could stop.

I think in my case, it was a cry for help.  I also think most people that knew me around that time; knew. Those people couldn’t and wouldn’t help me…because I was not helping myself. I was desperately wanting stability (in my head and life); but what it really ended up being, was attention from anyone or anything; because I was completely lost and damaged. My whole life had been a vicious cycle.  I was going to die soon…mainly kill myself straight out.

It really kills me to admit that. But I hope it will help someone…because I know I’m not the only one.

I was desperate for love, and I latched on to anyone that I thought would give it to me…

And it was a sick existence.

It was like a drug….fully. the whole behavior.

The people in the hustling world, that did help me… they always wanted something that I did not want to give. It was not “help” at all. They promised me money, drugs, friendship, love… they told me anything I wanted to hear…And THAT’S how I got sucked in, in the first place. 

And that’s how it always goes.

All of the people I dealt with; they never cared at all…not one of them. They just wanted to fulfill their own needs…escape from their reality, through me. 

For a long time, it was like a game I played with myself…even though I knew all along, that I was the only one that was losing.

Pieces of me every day.

I still have a hard time accepting it…. I look back on suicide videos and recordings that I have made; and it reminds me of how far I’ve come…and how bad I WAS. 

I will never allow myself to feel that despair, or live in it, ever again.

It’s easy to compromise yourself, when you are emotionally numb. It’s easy to hustle. Anyone that has ever been in the position will tell you so…if you really want to…it’s go time.

It doesn’t make it right.

Then you have to look in the mirror at yourself and know what you’ve done. You have to live within yourself. 

It’s not so easy.

Here comes the vices to numb the feelings further; hence the cycle.

I have come SO close to killing myself because of my personal failures to myself; that I don’t even want to say it.

Many, many, many, many, many times, I have thought about what it would be like, to just stop it all. I have tried four times in my life to actually do it.

And that’s what people don’t know. They were not there when I was standing on my roommates car in the garage, with a rope around my neck; nor where they there when I considered jumping off the overpass…my pill OD…none of it. 

I was alone, and I was hopeless.

I made myself ask for help; because I simply could not give in; OR destroy the people I love, any further.

I didn’t want to actually die; I just wanted the mental pain to go away. 

Sounds familiar, because it is; and a more than common running theme in most people with depression, mental disorders, and addiction. The feelings can manifest in many different ways; and are never good.

Asking for help changed my life. It gave me the skills I needed, to become less afraid of the things that were actually going on in my life; and it gave me the courage to change them.

I can never take back all of the things that I have done in my life, that make me a horrible person, to the average “normal” one…whatever that is.

I can only say that I spent years of my life trying to recoup my self-esteem and mind from it all; and now I only put out images of myself that are not images that I’d be ashamed of, in any way. I don’t compromise my body like that anymore; and NEVER will again.

The scars remain though.

Today, I am a photography major; and I hope that some day I can look back on the images that I have taken today, with great pride. I hope I will find it in me to share my work in the future; because I have a lot of great ideas, that I’d like to bring to fruition…and some I already have.

I am an artist, and always have been one and will be. Those are the images I want to be known for, not the others.

I live with integrity and honesty now; because I want to be remembered for who I am as a person, and what I did for the world; not the mistakes I’ve made in my life, or the damage that I’ve carried from the past.

Today is today; not yesterday.

The other pictures that I am not so proud of, will eventually resurface again some day; and I know this. 

But we all have pasts and skeletons..don’t we.

This is mine. Not so much of a skeleton anymore.

My advice to anyone really; and any female especially, is to consider your future self. Love yourself enough to know, that you don’t need to do that kind of thing for attention or love…or drugs.

It’s a hollow kind of attention; its a hollow kind of existence… and it does not fill the void in any way…only masks it. No amount of that kind of attention can save you, and that is a fact.

Do not trust that the images you put out into the cyberworld, to not show up where you least expect it, and don’t want them to…

Because they will EVERY time.

There are a lot of people in the world, who will take any opportunity they can, to use you; betray you; and hurt you for sport…and monetary gain or complete selfishness. They prey on broken, desperate people…and always pose as friends who want to help, or say they love you. 

You always find out TOO late, that that’s NOT the case…and then you can’t go back.

Don’t be one of those people, like I was.

I wish that I would have considered my actions more wisely. I had no idea about the extent of the ramifications that it would bring to me; all of it. It’s also embarrassing still on a small level…but what can you do, but not do it again.

It’s changed my view of everything I’ve ever known or thought about how the world really is.

It’s a shady place, with sun in some areas. 

I prefer the sun today.

I am SO glad, that I finally asked for help, and started seeking true friendships and support from people who never gave up on me; and truly cared for me.

It’s one of the reasons I’m able to write this publicly…and why I am still here on this earth. 

It’s one of the reasons I’ve found it in me, to love myself again.

Mental disease has many different facets to it, most times. Living in a world of darkness alone is really hard too. I remember not being able to see, any shred of light at all; until I started remembering that in the end, no one else is responsible for my life, but ME. 

I know I had help in realizing that. Always I’ll be grateful.

So even though I had to trainwreck through my entire life, I’m proud of myself today; and of every, single, little thing and piece of myself that I have managed to find and discover so far; because I have fought for it…and it IS ME who has done the work to get better. No one can take that away from me. 

I know that I’m not the only one who’s been through this ride either. 

For me, it has been MORE than a struggle; it has turned into a life-changing quest to never give up, give in, or compromise myself like that again….EVER.

Daily, I remind myself, that it’s OK to forgive myself, and to live with integrity today…because that’s what I can do for myself and the people I love. 

This is a piece of me, that I have finally made peace with. I’m not ashamed of it anymore.

I appreciate every single person in my life that values me for who I am…still. 

I hope this helps to put some things in perspective, and that it helps someone to be smarter about the choices they are making for themselves.

I hope it will help someone to forgive themself too; because we all have parts of us that we hide, and we can’t make peace with them until we do forgive ourselves….and stop the hiding.

Where there is courage, there is hope; and with hope, all things become possible. I believe it because it’s true.

Love yourself. 

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME 

Pretty sure it’s Tuesday, and the fact that I had to think about that is sad; still…

My mood is better today.

I can’t expect to feel positive all the time, when there are real problems I’m dealing with.

I’m not afraid anymore to say when I feel like shit inside, and I guess that is one good thing.  

Truth be told, I have no reason to trust anybody; or care. 

I think that’s a rather fucked up and selfish way of looking at things though; so I’m again looking on the bright side….because I actually hate feeling shitty…I don’t know if any of you have realized this by now, or not. I know it may be hard at points to tell.

If I could change one thing about myself, it would be my pessimism on life in general.

I work on it daily to control it; because I know that my attitude, directly affects my whole day, and life. Lately I’ve been failing.

It is still hard to stop up the leaks in my heart; for valid reasons that will always suck.

For that, I wish there were a solid cure that worked…

Faith seems to be the only option to slow it down.

Day 142 on the sober count; keeping it real, like always.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

I Believe in ME.

I find myself every day. The smallest pieces click together more than not, and make me stronger.

I am blessed for the things I do have… and I am grateful everyday for the people in my life, whom I love. 

I no longer believe that I cannot achieve my goals; it is simply all about what I will do to achieve them. 

It is easier to have faith in myself when I know I am doing whatever I can to move forward, and not wasting time on things that don’t matter.

It doesn’t always go as planned (it never does), but eventually I always get there. 

My mother has often told me that I have a way about me, in which I do almost everything the opposite of what most people will do; but I always get it done; it’s usually better than most would do it. 

I agree with this fact fully because I know it is true. I think it’s just about the level of effort I choose to put in.

No effort equals nothing but existence and sadness, and I’m not satisfied with that kind of life anymore, because that’s not who I am anymore, or how I want my life to be.

I have never really fought for much of anything but my disease, and nurturing it.

I don’t want to be remembered, as the girl who drank her life away. I don’t want to end up dead from alcoholism like my Uncle Mike.

I know I have more to offer the world than that. 

I am glad that I can say now, that I am NOT my disease, and every day of my life, from now on, I plan to prove it to MYSELF. 

I am four months and two days sober today.

I’m still alive, and there is a reason for it. 

I do know whatever happens, I have to remember I’m worth the good things, and the bad things don’t dictate my life anymore. I won’t and can’t let them.

My struggles in life, make it that much more satisfying to say that I am still here, and moving forward.

I don’t know if that makes sense to anyone but me, but it’s something I think is a miracle, and I don’t want to waste the time I have left. 

I’m not giving up on a life of peace, and I’ll continue to fight for it daily.

Just thoughts on my mind today. 

Kind of a hard week coming up for T and I, but it’ll be SO worth it for the both of us, in the end. Good vibes are appreciated. 

I hope you all have a great weekend. 🙂

Love yourself. 

J.Rounds (c)2017 ~Peaces of ME

3 months ago I stopped drinking alcohol.

I have reached a goal that took all my life, and three months to meet.

My motivation is high, and I’m living in the mindset that I will accomplish all that I truly put effort into doing. 

I figure I’m not assuming the worst of myself right up front anymore, because I’ve proven to myself that I can do what I set out to do. Three months ago, I stopped drinking alcohol…and I haven’t looked back.

A goal met.

I have many more goals to meet; but I’m excited for the challenges. I know it’s not worth it without them.

Peace does come from within. It may not always be around, but it’s a favorite friend of mine that I am always grateful to spend time with. 

Today I am at peace, even though there’s reason not to be. 

WIN.

I know that no matter what, I have things to be grateful for. 

Also congratulations to my partner in crime. We did it T; I knew we could too. 🙂 ❤
Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME


I Struggle With My Faith, and I Don’t Want to Anymore. The Root of the Root.

Here’s the disclaimer. 

I know a lot of people follow me here, because they want to see the messed up things I’m gonna’ say next. That’s fine. 

This may not be the blog post for you though; because it is long, and recaps my struggle with faith and childhood. It’s a self- validation piece, and my life truly unfolded. 

It was hard to write; and even harder to post.
I appreciate anybody’s time in advance, that does want to read further. 

Thank you. It means more than you know. Xo

-Jenni

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I have struggled with my faith since the age of nine, when my Father first took us to church.

I’m trying to come to some sort of terms with it, because it has been weighing on my mind for many reasons; for many, many years.

I’m getting older. I’m letting things go that have infected my soul for so long…FINALLY. I need to find some sort of peace with my faith so that I can nurture it, and possibly build on it more, so I can have closure and true peace inside.

I feel I need to do this, at this point. There are holes in me that will not close without it; I’ve tried, and I know this.

Lately, I feel a shift in my way of thinking regarding “God” and his existence. The ghosts of the past make me question today. The only thing I really know for sure is, is that I do not know what comes after this life at all.

As a child, I grew up in a house where the only father I had ever known drank too much. The F- bomb was dropped as easily as the porn mags, that were just laying around the living area of our downstairs basement, in plain site of a child.

It was all about my father, nothing else. He did what he wanted, and my mother did what he said to do, and was a good wife to him. She loved him, and she loved us as well. 

I never knew from day to day, what mood my father was going to be in, or if I would get hurt by him that day. Sometimes things seemed normal”ish”; but it wouldn’t take long for him to fly off the handle without warning, and become way too agressive with my mother and myself for certain. He caused physical and mental damage, over and over, that hurt us both. Sometimes he would even lash out at my younger sisters too, when I didn’t get there fast enough to get in the way. I’m sure they don’t remember a lot of it early on, and I am SO grateful for that; but I still do. He was cruel and not loving by standard; and that’s how it was for me.

Mostly it was a life of uncertainty, mental chaos, fear and pain; in some regard; whether it was physical, emotional or worse.  I was always on edge, and scared. It also was a lot of avoiding anywhere my father was… at all times… if I could at all manage it. 

I hated him, but I loved him as well because he was my Father. Most don’t understand that. 

It’s not my issue.

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On the outside, we looked like a regular, (lower) middle-class family. It was my father, mother, two younger sisters (my dad’s real kids), and me. My father was a welder and a sprinkler fitter by trade with the Union. We always lived in a house, and had food to eat. We took vacations every year. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same school our entire school years, k-12. My mother was a “typical” housewife.

It looked, on the surface, to be quite normal; although I know for a fact that many people around us at that time (adults), knew that it wasn’ t. The truth is, I personally lived a very disfunctional childhood. I was fully terrified of my home life, because I was being abused on a regular basis, in various ways. That’s being about as forthright and vague as I can be about it, without getting fully into it; and to prevent more slander from complete strangers that have no clue, and like to send me BS emails and messages about how I’m a pathological liar and making it all up…

You can ask my Mother about it…Enough said.

It pisses me off that I have to deal with that factor.

It’s relevant information none the less, and you need the back- story to understand the whole blog.


Anyways….

My grandmother somehow talked my father into going to her “Christian Reformed” church one Sunday. I was about 9 years old, I believe. I didn’t understand who God even was, because there was NO religion in our family at all, and I had never heard of him up until then. I can’t remember any of my close, or extended family; besides my grandmother; ever going to church or anything. Christmas was just Christmas. Easter was just Easter. There was no talk of spirituality, faith, or God at all in our family…ever.

For some reason or another, my father decided that we would go to church. He latched on to the concept quickly, and our family then started going to church every week…twice on Sunday, and once on Wednesday.

I’d like to think it was because he wanted to change his ways; but that didn’t end up happening at all.

It actually got way more fucked up.

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I DO remember many good memories about that church. 

Christmas programs, Sunday school,  Calvanetts (like girl scouts but church group), many gatherings and social events, Bible school. I know a great deal about the Bible and I read it once, straight through. It took me three years. Lol. Bet you didn’t know that about me. 🙂

The point though is that there were some good people there for sure. I was in all regards “forced” into the atmosphere; but I do have to say that IT WAS comforting in some way, to be around father-figures that acted like proper fathers. Before that, I was totally afraid of men, and I would hide a lot. I had a few teachers there though, that I respected and listened to; It’s because they were all kind to me, and each of them seemed like the kind of father, I’d wished I’d had.

It’s kind of sad when you think about it. 

I was often jealous of other families that were loving and happy. True fact.

Unfortunately, I also remember that most of the people at “that church”, acted like they just wanted to show off what they were wearing that week and what they had. It was apparent. No one ever clapped after a song performance or a congratulatory mention to someone from the Pastor; which I thought was totally weird and not cool at all. It’s as if they were above showing emotion. The worst part was that the church mostly treated my family like we were less-fortunate and less-than as well, because we had nowhere near as much money as the rest of the congregation that went there….we were charity cases, basically. They used to give us care packages on our porch and just leave them there, and I’m pretty sure they were helping my parents with financial strains at one point. (This is not a fact, just a hunch) The point is, I can STILL remember the stares when we walked down the center isle of the church to be seated every week. I absolutely hated it because I knew why they stared at us. It’s funny how people think that kids can’t pick up on things like that; but it’s not true…they definitely can.

I felt like I didn’t belong there at all; but since I did not have any choice but to go, I adapted as I always did. 

After a while, that’s when the religious indoctrination started by my father.

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It is hard to believe in God, when you are a child who does not understand what is happening to her; and why her father hates her, and hurts her. I often would ask questions about God to my father; which were always met with anger, degradation, and punishment. I once had to stand up at the dinner table for three hours and be lectured and talked down to,  because I asked my father “How he knew that God existed.” 

I was ten.

You see, even at that age, I knew what he was doing to me and my family was not right, and that it didn’t make sense what he was saying; his actions never matched his words.  I also knew that no one seemed to care what was happening to me. 

Everybody thought my dad was just awesome. He wasn’t. He fed and clothed us, and provided for us; but he was not a good father to me at all. He caused trauma that I’ve carried with me, my entire life. 

I don’t have any regrets saying it either, because it’s the truth…and he and I and my mother, all know it.

The truth hurts.

Sorry Dad, but I’m writing this to self-validate, because I deserve to.

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I remember one Sunday, our pastor asking for people who wanted to be saved to “Come up to the front and take the Lord’s hand. The Lord would help us find our way and save us all from despair.” 

I went up.

I wanted to be saved so bad. I did feel the Lord in that moment. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed, as hard as I could for his healing. I wanted my father to stop hurting me, my mom,  and my sisters; and I wanted God to please, please help. I truly believed that he would take the pain away, and fix my life and my family.

It didn’t happen at all.

The same things continued to happen, and as I got older…it got worse.

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was baptized along with my parents and sisters, when I was 11 years old.

My father then became a Deacon of the church.

What I will never get, is that my father would sometimes openly abuse me in front of church people, and NO ONE did ANYTHING, but look the other way. 

One time my family went on a camping trip with another church family, and my father gave me a black eye because I was teasing my sister when we were supposed to be sleeping. 

He punched me numerous times in the face, like a man would hit a man. 

What do you do?

The next day my mother actually had the nerve to ask me, if my father had done that to me. I love my mother more than anything, but I was so enraged in that moment I could literally say nothing, because I wanted to hurt her the way that I was hurting inside….and on my face. 

That’s fucked up.

I was thirteen.

It took me a long time to realize that my mother was a victim as well; but I do know that now, and understand.

She told me not to say anything, like she told me the first time my father gave me a black eye, when I was six. She told me to behave. I didn’t tell anybody. The church family we were with had two small children even. They saw me and said absolutely nothing. Everybody went on about the vacation as if it hadn’t even happened, and I know they all heard it.  That’s when I pretty much figured I was FUCKED, and this God everybody was talking about, was not gonna’ save me at all. 


My father eventually had a long-running affair in the end with another woman. He left my mother, my sisters, myself…AND the church.

Then the church left my mother, and she almost killed herself over it all.

My parents were divorced when I was 14. 

My sister’s were devastated and cried and cried. 

I cried because I was happy my father was finally gone, and could not hurt us anymore. 

Yeah.

By the way, my mom is an amazing woman. She worked her ass off to keep us in that house, clothes on our backs, food in our stomachs…and she did it all without help from the government. 

She IS the reason I am strong. She IS the reason my eldest daughter is strong. 

It took me a long time to realize this. She kept ALL us girls together, when we were all falling apart and had no one but each other. 

Every day I’m thankful she is my mom.

Just wanted to say that because I love her, and I respect who she is and what she sacrificed for me.

She raised my daughter until she was 13 years old because I knew I couldn’t. If not for her, I would never know my daughter because she would be with an adoptive family right now instead. 

I’m so grateful for her. She always loves me no matter what. 

I love you.

Thank you.

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Ok . Back on track with the religion thing. Sorry.

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I guess my whole issue is; I feel most people hide behind their religion, and are totally different people when it’s all said and done. 

I fully respect my friends that are passionate about their faith in God, and practice it. I have no issues with anyone believing what they want, because I feel like it’s as personal as your life-journey is. Everyone finds their own way and belief, no two ways or stories are exactly the same, unless you’re in a cult.(lol)  

Ok, that was bad; but wtf.?

There are however, a lot of shady, scummy, horrible people in the world that use God as a cover, and those people are not godly at all. I know this because I’ve lived it.

Anyways… 

My childhood experiences and church involvement, have tainted every single thing that comes to religion for me. It’s sad that I’ve felt guilty for talking about it in detail, until now. After my son passed, I said “Fuck it” all together and just started trying to see things for what they were . 

My core beliefs are as follows:

* I don’t like organized religion. 

*I do not believe the Bible is the do all, end all; or you’re going to Hell, at all. I don’t even know if it’s real, or if there is a Heaven or Hell, and really I think it’s just a bunch of stories, and totally hypocritical and perverted to say the least.

I don’t think God is coming back, or he’d be here by now. Don’t people consider this at all?

I don’t know really how to say all this without offending someone, but more people have been killed in the name of religion, than anything else; and that is a fact. 

It makes no sense.


STILL……

There’s got to be something. 

I refuse to believe that this life is all for nothing. I refuse to believe that the despair and suffering of the world, is all for nothing. I refuse to believe that nature is as amazing as it is, without something or someone having a hand in that. I want to see my son again, and some other people too.

But I really don’t know what or who (if anything), is responsible.

I am a much more  spiritual person, than I am a religious person. I think it’s the most logical way to go. 

Wierdly though, a lot of things have been happening in my life that cause me to reconsider trying out just ONE service some time; in “that church”…. just to see how I feel afterwards. 

Maybe that is highly hypocritical, but I feel like I owe “God”, another chance..if he exists.

It’s kind of freaking me out too, because I’m scared to death of the insides of churches, and will not go in them. 

I just want to feel that feeling I had again, when I was up at the front of the church, and truly believed he could save me when I was 11 years old.

For what it’s worth, I hope I at least can find some sort of comfort and direction, and maybe let the ghosts from my childhood finally pass on to the other side, where they belong for good good good.

That can’t be a bad thing, and I think I owe it to myself to walk in that church and find out once and for all. 

I am not a child anymore; and my father is no longer able to cause me damage. The damage I now do regarding the whole thing, is to myself. Hence the struggle.

Even though I don’t speak to him; I have for the most part accepted that it can’t be changed. 

I will always remember though.

It’s because I understand that his Father hurt him too, and it is a cycle, that I can take a different look at it now. I am also a person who knows about alcoholism, and hurting people you’re supposed to love. Also because I love him; he’s the only father I’ve ever known. 

And that’s why I know there must be something. 

Two years ago, I never would have been able to say that about him. I let it affect my whole life, and way of thinking. But that’s over now.

That didn’t happen by itself. 

I have control of my life now.

I guess I’ll update, and let you know how it goes. 

Thanks for reading. I haven’t talked this extensively about my reasons for my beliefs and how they got there in open written forum before; and so that in itself is completely freeing. 

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME



Can you stop smoking already.

In the coming days I will try to quit smoking cigarettes. *bitch warning*

Although I’m scared, as it’s been a HUGE crutch of mine; I’m just ready to be healthier, and I have to save for a car which is my number one priority.

I venture to say I spend about 150 on cigarettes every month. If I would have saved up all that money, I’d be years ahead with my *financial goals, I’m sure.

I will be jumping in with this feet first.
I quit for 10 years cold turkey. This time instead of doing it for my kids, I will do it for my health and for my future.

It’s been a long time coming.

J.Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of Me

T-minus 5 days, until day of 45th birth.

So since I have decided to drop all the drama around me and start getting completely honest
about my life, and what I need; I feel a lot calmer and have more clarity.

A lot of things were not as they seemed to me, because I was unmedicated, suffering, and I let people close to me, that had no business being there.

I almost lost my future happiness because of it.

Not happening. I went on a massive purge.

Tomorrow I have a full day *of further purging, and a shoot I have to do for school.

Exhale. Whew.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of Me

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Peace

For everything, truth be told, she was a giver and a dreamer. Some people took advantage of these facts… but some people didn’t; and she smiled when she thought of them.

She had had to learn many things the hard way…most things; but the things she had learned, were more valuable than anything she had ever had to endure.

Peace comes to those who truly seek it; no matter what trials and tribulations one might have to fight through to get there.

Her future held more than  she could even imagine and she was glad to finally be allowing herself the opportunity to fully live it.

She was still a giver and a dreamer; because that’s who she was.

She was just one seeking peace every day now, for herself. She owed herself that much.

J.Rounds (c) 2016 ~Peaces of Me

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February 18th, 2016

There’s a certain kind of stoic gracefullness that washes over me when I come to the moment of clarity.

My thoughts are sharper. The air seems crisper. All of the tension melts away from the lines of my face.

For all the time I spend hoping and wishing something to be true; there is nothing you can tell me when I finally know it to be otherwise.

I guess we all learn in our own time.

I am sleeping tonight with a clear head and a clear mind and dreaming of those who have stood by me, loved me, and always have and will.

The truth will set you free; and in this case it just couldn’t be anymore true if you put a shotgun up to my heart and pulled the trigger. 

No more tears. I have other things to focus on.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds (c)February 18th, 2016 ~Peaces of Me

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