Lonely Again

Life has a funny way of throwing us all for a spin. We just have to figure out how to handle it when we're lonely again.

I'm Leah, I was born in June. This is my blog. This is my diary. This is where I put thoughts and feelings that no one will ever get to see.


This is where I fight.


I am diagnosed with Dysthymia, Anxiety, Major Depressive Disorder, EDNOS, Body Dysmorphic Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder.

Tumbling since July 19, 2010

I'm easy to get a hold of.
AIM: LeahMusicLife
Skype: Leahmariemusic
I have MSN and Facebook, just ask and I'll give them to you.
I can give you my cell number if you want to text me.

Ask me anything


Tumblr theme by ahhfred

May 23rd, 2013

Pretty much. 

The smile saying yes, and then the way it hurts to say it out loud because when no one brings it up, even though it’s always nagging in the back of your mind, you don’t have to really think about it, him, and what the two of you had. 

(via thoughtsofinsomnia)

May 22nd, 2013

You are amazing.
Asketh - Anonymous

So are you, anon. 

If you ignore the litter box and water bowl, you can have a picture of my cat Snickers.  Snickers is a year and a half and I adopted him from an animal shelter, where he was born. His whole litter was sick, because his mother was sick. Out of the rest of the litter, Snickers is the only one who survived. His mother pulled through as well.  For about eight months he fought with near constant illness, including an eye infection. It attacked his left eye first, and when that eye was considered healthy, it attacked his right one. The right eye recovered better, but the left started to become infected again. And once again the infection improved to the point where he was safe to be adopted. Medication and illness stunted his growth because of constant weight drops: at one point 1.8 pounds in ten days.  But, the shelter deemed him healthy and sent him to a pet store to be displayed for adoption.  He was there for two weeks and didn’t receive the eye drops he may have still needed for his left eye. It got worse and they brought him back from the shelter. At about a year old, he had his left eye removed. The medication effected his skin and caused his nose to dry, but he recovered fully. Up until last week the only lasting effect was dryness and scabbing on his nose and above where his left eye should be.  Snickers came home with me when he came back to that pet store, where I now work. I met him working, and a couple weeks later after my grandmother died I took him home. I knew his story.  I also know that he is the happiest cat I have ever met. He wants to cuddle constantly. He follows me around my apartment, sleeps in my bed, keeps me company. He is the happiest, most loving animal I’ve met in my life, and no one else wanted him because he was missing an eye.  Snickers is my beautiful boy. He’s a fighter. He’s something that will always come back. He loves even though he’s never been loved before. He trusts even though he’s never had anyone to trust. And even without his eye, with a disability, Snickers is happy. 

If you ignore the litter box and water bowl, you can have a picture of my cat Snickers. 

Snickers is a year and a half and I adopted him from an animal shelter, where he was born. His whole litter was sick, because his mother was sick. Out of the rest of the litter, Snickers is the only one who survived. His mother pulled through as well. 

For about eight months he fought with near constant illness, including an eye infection. It attacked his left eye first, and when that eye was considered healthy, it attacked his right one. The right eye recovered better, but the left started to become infected again. And once again the infection improved to the point where he was safe to be adopted. Medication and illness stunted his growth because of constant weight drops: at one point 1.8 pounds in ten days.  But, the shelter deemed him healthy and sent him to a pet store to be displayed for adoption. 

He was there for two weeks and didn’t receive the eye drops he may have still needed for his left eye. It got worse and they brought him back from the shelter. At about a year old, he had his left eye removed. The medication effected his skin and caused his nose to dry, but he recovered fully. Up until last week the only lasting effect was dryness and scabbing on his nose and above where his left eye should be. 

Snickers came home with me when he came back to that pet store, where I now work. I met him working, and a couple weeks later after my grandmother died I took him home. I knew his story. 

I also know that he is the happiest cat I have ever met. He wants to cuddle constantly. He follows me around my apartment, sleeps in my bed, keeps me company. He is the happiest, most loving animal I’ve met in my life, and no one else wanted him because he was missing an eye. 

Snickers is my beautiful boy. He’s a fighter. He’s something that will always come back. He loves even though he’s never been loved before. He trusts even though he’s never had anyone to trust. And even without his eye, with a disability, Snickers is happy. 

April 22nd, 2013

(Source: proudofwhoyouare.com, via u-never-know)

April 21st, 2013

Changing Your Thought Processes.

I am ugly - I am beautiful

I am worthless - I have worth

I am sick - I will heal

I hate myself - I will learn to love myself

I am weak - I am strong, or I wouldn’t be here today

I am moody - I have profound emotional depth

I am lost - I will find myself

I am scared - I have courage

I am crazy - It is normal to struggle

I am in pain - It’s okay to hurt

I am tired - I will not give up

I’m not good enough - I am better than “good enough”

I can’t change - I can change

(Source: meandmymonster, via recoveryisbeautiful)

(via asdfghjklmaskedbitch)

April 20th, 2013

(Source: tamnasenka, via destery-and-gee-gee)

(Source: latterman, via rees3s)

On positive self affirmations, and why they are so difficult

My case manager asked me to tell her three good things about myself today - three things that I was good at or liked about myself. It took me about twenty minutes to come up with anything good to say at all. I am incredibly good at finding nice things to say about everyone else. I can find something honestly good to say about a total stranger, and yet I can’t think of three things to say about myself. 

Once I did think of something, I found myself finding reasons why they weren’t really good things - I was a good singer, but I have weird taste in music. I was a good writer, but I didn’t always find time for it. 

As we went around to the other people in the program, other women started sobbing trying to get out what they thought was good about them, and as I sat there I began to realize that it is not just me that cannot find anything good about myself. 

Positive affirmations are hard when self esteem has never been fed before. I have never felt special or good at things, and that makes it hard to say that there is something good about me because even if I know it in my mind, I do not believe the words I am saying. 

I do not believe I am a good singer, musician, writer. I do not believe anything of that sort, and saying it out loud doesn’t make me believe it. Saying it out loud just brought up the doubts and insecurities I have about myself. And not just that, but I was scared because I didn’t want anyone else to feel like I thought I was better that anyone else. Like I thought I was great, because I don’t. All through school I was told that I must have thought I was full of myself, and that I shouldn’t think that. People didn’t like me because they perceived me as feeling above them. 

Positive self affirmations are hard for me because I don’t believe them. I don’t believe them because I’ve been told I should not feel that way about myself. And they are hard to see because if I see and communicate them, I have been taught that people will not like me.

April 19th, 2013

(Source: kissmeyoufoolstagram, via destery-and-gee-gee)