I am not the type of girl who gets the fairytale.

You know the one: the girl who sweeps in and captures the heart of her prince charming…

Complete with a castle, a happily ever after, and a perfect Instagram feed.

Nope, that’s not my story.

I am the girl who guys love the idea of but can’t deal with in real life.

The girl who is intriguing at first, full of quirks and endless depths, but whose intensity becomes overwhelming.

I am the girl who gives and gives until there’s nothing left, who attracts people who take and take until I’m completely empty.

I don’t get the fairytale ending.

Instead, I get the nightmares. The hurt. The pain.

It’s easy to fall for the idea of someone.

The mystery, the allure of something different.

But reality has a way of shattering those illusions.

My reality is a constant struggle to be understood, to be accepted for who I am, not who people want me to be.

There’s a particular agony in giving so much of yourself, only to find out it’s never enough.

I’ve been there, time and again.

Pouring my heart and soul into relationships, only to watch them crumble.

I attract people who are all too willing to take what I offer without a second thought of giving anything back.

It’s a vicious cycle of giving and being left empty.

I’ve heard it all: “You’re too much,” “You’re too intense.”

As if my passion, my dedication, my very essence is a burden.

The fairytale teaches us that love is supposed to be unconditional, that the right person will love you for who you are.

But what happens when who you are is constantly deemed too much?

Instead of the dream, I get the nightmares.

The sleepless nights, the anxiety, the fear of never being enough.

The feeling of being used and discarded, over and over again.

The hurt and the pain become constant companions, whispering in the quiet moments that maybe, just maybe, the fairytale was never meant for someone like me.

But here’s the thing about nightmares: they end.

And in the waking hours, I find strength.

Strength in knowing that my worth isn’t defined by someone else’s inability to see it.

Strength in realising that just because I don’t fit into the fairytale doesn’t mean I don’t deserve my own kind of happiness.

I may not get the fairytale, but I get to write my own story.

A story where I learn to set boundaries, to value myself, and to attract people who appreciate me for who I am.

A story where my giving nature isn’t exploited, but cherished.

Where the hurt and pain become lessons, not definitions.

I am not the girl who gets the fairytale.

But I am the girl who survives, who grows stronger with every setback.

Who learns to love herself fiercely and unapologetically.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s a better ending after all.

Life after an abusive relationship can feel like tiptoeing through a minefield while blindfolded. 

For many, this delightful journey leads to Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD)

A condition that loves to rear its ugly head in victims of narcissistic abuse. 

Whether the relationship was familial, platonic, or romantic, the aftermath is just a gift that keeps on giving.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮: 𝗟𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗲

C-PTSD does wonders for your brain chemistry, much like a toddler with crayons on your freshly painted walls. 

It’s similar to Borderline Personality Disorder, complete with a shrunken hippocampus – the part of your brain responsible for emotional regulation. 

Thanks to narcissistic abuse, you can enjoy a cocktail of cortisol spikes (hello, stress!) and oxytocin boosts (aww, fake love), creating a chemical addiction to your abuser. 

It’s like being hooked on your favourite snack that you can’t stop eating.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝘀: 𝗛𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆?

One of the many perks of C-PTSD is hypervigilance.

Constantly on edge, like a squirrel on caffeine, making sure you don’t trigger the abuser’s wrath. 

This extends to your sex life too, especially if it was used as a manipulation tool. 

You might find yourself with an increased libido or, ironically, struggling in the bedroom due to the constant stress. Fun times, right?

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗭𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁

Dissociation is another delightful symptom. 

One minute you’re at work or with friends, and the next, you’re mentally checked out, only to be dragged back by someone asking if you’re okay. 

These moments of disconnection can make you feel like a background character in your own life. 

Flashbacks, nightmares, and vivid dreams are also on the menu, keeping you fixated on the narcissist like a bad TV series you can’t stop binge-watching.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁: 𝗧𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀? 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯!

After narcissistic abuse, trust becomes as rare as a unicorn. 

Your vulnerabilities, once used against you, make it nearly impossible to let others in. You doubt your own judgment, feeling exposed and weak. 

This mistrust leads to self-isolation, where you ignore messages and avoid social interactions like they’re the plague. 

Explaining C-PTSD to someone who hasn’t experienced it is like describing colour to a blind person.

The relentless doubt: Future faking and other fairy tales

You might avoid seeking help because it feels as pointless as a screen door on a submarine. 

The narcissist’s future faking was so convincing that reality without them feels empty and purposeless. 

Their isolation tactics make it hard to reconnect with people who genuinely care about you.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀: 𝗣𝗧𝗦𝗗’𝘀 𝗻𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲𝘀

Triggers are the surprise party you never wanted. A sound, a smell, or a fleeting memory can transport you back to moments of joy or horror with the narcissist. 

Your body reacts defensively: shoulders hunched, jaw clenched, arms crossed. 

This hyper-alertness is your brain’s misguided attempt to protect you, keeping you anchored to a past you’d rather forget.

𝗠𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱: 𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆

Despite the twisted love you might still feel for the narcissist, you need to recognise how little they cared for you. 

C-PTSD is a relentless adversary, but help is available. 

Your struggles are valid, and seeking support can prevent these symptoms from turning your life into a perpetual dumpster fire. 

Talking to a professional can provide the tools needed to reclaim your autonomy and heal from the wounds of narcissistic abuse.

𝗖-𝗣𝗧𝗦𝗗 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴

Recovery is possible, though, so reach out, seek help, and surround yourself with people who genuinely care for your well-being. 

Your journey towards healing starts with acknowledging the pain and taking the first step towards reclaiming your life, one sarcastic quip at a time if needs be!

Did Lois Lane Fall for Clark Kent or Superman?

Lois Lane. The woman who embodies journalistic integrity and investigative expertise, yet has a blind spot the size of Metropolis when it comes to figuring out that her two love interests are, in fact, the same person. 

This is the love triangle that isn’t really a triangle but more like a straight line wearing glasses. 

So, the burning question is: did Lois Lane fall in love with Clark Kent, the mild-mannered reporter, or Superman, the caped demigod with an affinity for spandex?

Clark Kent: The Ultimate Nice Guy™

Clark Kent is the quintessential nice guy. He holds doors, says “please” and “thank you,” and probably rescues kittens from trees on his days off. 

He’s got that boy-next-door charm, which is great, if you’re into vanilla ice cream that’s never seen a topping. 

You know the type: they may not be the most thrilling, but they are as reliable as they come. 

Lois, being the ace reporter, somehow never notices that Clark’s abs are doing a terrible job hiding under those bargain-bin suits.

But really, can you blame her? Clark is the ultimate master of disguise. He wears glasses, after all. And we all know glasses are the most foolproof way to hide one’s identity. 

It’s not like Lois is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist or anything. Oh, wait.

Superman: The Alien Adonis

On the other hand, we have Superman. The flying, laser-eyed, bulletproof wonder. He’s the guy every man wants to be and every woman… well, you get the idea. 

Lois sees Superman as the embodiment of everything humanity aspires to be but isn’t. 

He’s brave, noble, and doesn’t even need Tinder because he can literally sweep women off their feet — and into the stratosphere. Plus, let’s be honest, the cape adds at least 50 points to anyone’s hotness score.

Superman saves Lois from countless perils, and each rescue cements her affections. It’s hard not to fall for a guy who can juggle asteroids and has a jawline that could cut glass. 

She’s in love with the idea of Superman — the unattainable, the perfect, the savior. Never mind that he could probably kill her with a sneeze.

The Verdict:

So, who did Lois Lane really fall in love with? The answer is both simple and complicated: she fell for the best parts of both personas. 

Superman represents the ideal — the perfect hero. 

Clark represents the attainable — the good-hearted, reliable guy. 

Lois’s love for Superman is aspirational, while her love for Clark, though less overt, is deeply rooted in everyday reality.

But if we’re being honest, Lois probably just has a thing for tall guys with dark hair and a penchant for primary colours. 

Whether it’s the suit or the spandex, the man behind the mask is the same, even if Lois is the last person in the newsroom to figure it out. 

And when she does, it’ll be the most anticlimactic revelation since finding out your favorite “secret” menu item is just a burger without the bun.

In the end, does it really matter? 

Whether it’s Clark or Superman, Lois Lane will always be in love with one thing above all else: the byline. 

After all, in the battle between love and journalistic scoop, the scoop always wins. 

Lois Lane, the woman who taught us that sometimes, love is blind, but journalism is never out of focus.

If that little voice inside your head tells you to do something- do you listen?

Ever found yourself in a deep conversation with that “little voice” inside your head?

Only to wonder

“Wait, who’s actually doing the talking here?”

Let me introduce Roger Sperry

Neuroscientist Roger Sperry researched the “split-brain phenomenon”

By studying patients who had undergone corpus callosotomy (a surgical procedure to treat severe epilepsy)

His work advanced our understanding of brain structure and function

Rodge the brainiac, essentially decided it was a good idea to slice and dice some brains in the name of science

His split-brain experiments were like a big ol’ twisted game of Operation

But instead of removing funny bones, he was cutting the cord between the brain’s hemispheres

Turns out, when you snip the corpus callosum (the brain’s Wi-Fi connection between hemispheres)

Weird shìť goes down

You’ve got one hemisphere humming “I’m a Believer”

While the other is all about “Bohemian Rhapsody”

And neither side has a clue what the other’s jamming to

It’s like the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand’s typing

Literally

Rodge would flash an image to one eye (and by extension, one hemisphere), and suddenly, it’s like two different personalities showed up

One hemisphere could recognise a chicken

But the other had no clue why the heck there was thoughts of chucken nuggs goin on in their brain

Now

Here’s the bit that has kept me up at night…

What if that voice in your head isn’t just you?

But another version of “you” trapped in the cranial confines of your own noggin?

One you is the captain of the ship, steering the wheel and calling the shots

While the other you is the backseat driver, shouting directions but never actually getting to take the wheel

You’re mulling over life’s big questions when suddenly, a debate breaks out between Brain A and Brain B

Brain A’s all like, “Let’s quit our job and join OnlyFans!”

While Brain B’s screaming, “Are you insane? We eat too many cheetos for that be an option!”

Don’t get me started on schizophrenia or DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder)

Maybe those peeps aren’t hearing voices from outer space or as part of ‘mental illness’

But instead, just trying to decipher the multiple-choice cacophony happening inside their own craniums

So, next time you catch yourself having a heart-to-heart with that chatty Cathy in your head

Just remember: you might not be alone up there

The other verison of you just doesn’t have control over your pie hole and meat suit

There are moments that linger in our hearts like delicate whispers

Fragments of time that etch themselves into the deepest recesses of our souls

Forever carrying the essence of our existence

Fleeting moments that seem so insignificant

Small ripples on the surface of a pond

—–

Like, for instance, a childhood memory

—–

A weary child finds rest amidst a family gathering

As the child succumbs to slumber

The laughter of loved ones seep into their innocent dreamscape

A memory that stays with them forever

One that as a collective, a lot of us seem to share

—–

I hope that when our time comes, our transition mirrors this memory

—–

I hope death is like being carried to your bedroom

Cradled in the arms of unseen forces

Tenderly guiding us towards the next chapter of our existence

—–

The laughter and love from the next room continue to reverberate through the corridors of eternity

As the veil between life and death begins to lift

May our hearts be filled with a bittersweet longing

A yearning for the echoes of laughter that have guided us thus far

But keeping with us, the feeling of being safe

Loved and surrounded by people who care about us

—–

May we approach this transition not with fear

But with the understanding that we are all intricately connected to the laughter

The tears

The collective human experience

—–

In death, may we find not an end, but a new beginning

Where the laughter of our loved ones becomes the eternal soundtrack to our souls

May we find solace in the realisation that our journey continues beyond the boundaries of this earthly existence

—–

In the echoes of laughter from the next room

May we find the strength to face the uncertainties

To embrace the beauty of life and death as one

Let’s explore the concept of how mushrooms could potentially be alien lifeforms

Because, well, why wouldn’t you?

One intriguing aspect of mushrooms that sparks curiosity is their DNA

Surprisingly, the DNA of mushrooms is more closely related to humans than it is to plants

Like, what the actual fùçķ?

—–🍄

This unique similarity raises some intriguing questions about their origin and potential extraterrestrial connections

One speculative theory suggests that mushrooms could be the result of a cosmic encounter between alien lifeforms and early Earth

Perhaps, billions of years ago, an alien species visited our planet and left behind microscopic traces of their DNA

Over time, this extraterrestrial DNA could have integrated with Earth’s biological systems, eventually leading to the development of mushrooms

Mushrooms might be the ultimate bridge between Earth and alien life

They share a genetic resemblance with us humans, which could mean we have some ancient connection or shared ancestry with these freaky fungi

Let’s not forget about the unique properties of mushrooms

These bad boys can thrive in any damn environment and have some complex biochemical compounds going on

Some people think that sh*t was specifically engineered by advanced alien civilizations

Like, they designed mushrooms to keep the ecological balance in check, or even as a way for aliens to communicate with each other

Trippy, right?

—–🍄

Mushrooms are adaptable as fùçķ

They can survive in extreme conditions, like deep underground….

Or in outer space…Who knows??

Maybe they evolved to survive in environments completely alien to our Earth

Some mushrooms reproduce by releasing their spores into the air, spreading their genetic material far and wide

It’s like aliens wanted to make damn sure their DNA got around

Efficient little buggers, aren’t they?

—–🍄

Some mushrooms have medicinal properties and sh*t too

The aliens weren’t playing around with some serious genetic engineering when they created these fungi

They wanted to give them specific purposes or make them beneficial for other lifeforms

Alien scientists, man. They’re on a whole other level

—-🍄

Mushrooms also play a vital role in ecosystems by decomposing organic matter and recycling nutrients

Some people think aliens intentionally designed them to keep the environment in check

They wanted to regulate and maintain balance on our planet

Thanks, extraterrestrial pals!

—–🍄

Some mushroom species have these crazy growth patterns

They form intricate networks underground or buddy up with other organisms

It’s like they have an advanced biological design that goes way beyond our comprehension

Aliens must have been feeling pretty damn creative when they came up with these patterns

—-🍄

Now, let’s be clear, all these reasons are just wild speculations, not rooted in scientific evidence

We’re basically letting our imaginations run wild with this whole mushrooms-as-aliens idea

But, it’s a concept that gets us thinking and exploring the mysteries of the natural world, right?

—-🍄

So, keep that curiosity alive!

Scientists are still doing their thing to uncover the true origins and nature of mushrooms and their role in our crazy Earth’s ecosystems

Who knows, maybe one day we’ll discover that mushrooms really are the ultimate extraterrestrial spies

But until then, keep on tripping on those mushrooms, both literally and metaphorically

The universe is one hell of a mind-bending place!

💧   You’re having one of those days where life decides to punch you right in the twot 

💧   Your life is spiraling down the crapper faster than you can say “FML ”

💧   Your partner is being a total douchè-canoe

OR your love life is as dry as a desert ~tumbleweeds rolling through~

💧   Your bank account is laughing at you

—– ♡

It’s the kind of day where you just want to let it all out

BUT you also don’t want to subject innocent bystanders to your ugly-cry, puffy-eyed, snot-covered mess of a face

Enter the Cry Hole™

—–♡

Without judgment or repercussions

Like a therapy session

But without the price tag & awkward small talk

This genius invention, is a hole in the wall (literally) 

Where you can…. errm, release all the pent-up emotions 👀

—–♡

Now, you might be wondering

“Why the hell would I cry into a hole?” 

—–♡

Well the Cry Hole™ is not just any ordinary hole 🕳

Your salty droplets are converted into a premium-grade essence

That can be used for various purposes:

💦 Like facials 👀 nourishing your skin with your sorrowful nectar 

💦 Creating artisanal cocktails 🍸 

💦 Or even for bottling and selling to people 💲💰

——♡

Need a place to stash your overdue bills?

Embarrassing childhood photos?

Or cringe-worthy diary entries? 

Just slide them right on into the Cry Hole™

Let the void devour them like a hungry monster

Marie Kondo-ing your emotional baggage

Only it’s more satisfying….

And less likely to end up on a viral Tik Tok video that you will never live down

—–♡

Now, we know what you’re thinking – 

“Where can I get my hands on this marvelous invention?” 

Unfortunately, the Cry Hole™ is not yet available for mass production

Our team of inventors is still perfecting the technology

And figuring out how to monetise the tears of the masses

—–♡

We believe that someday, the Cry Hole™ will be as common as a toaster or a selfie stick

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙬𝙚’𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩

And will also be there to offer you a tissue 

I used to believe, with every fibre of my being, that I was a person consumed by jealousy

♡♡♡♡♡

It was a label that clung to me like a shadow

Whispered in my ear by countless partners who claimed to know me better than I knew myself

I internalised it, allowing it to seep into the very core of my being until it became an inseparable part of who I was

It became a cautionary tale

I warned others about my supposed affliction before they dared to become romantically involved with me

How mistaken I was…

—-♡

A recent revelation has shattered that illusion

Revealing the truth that had been obscured beneath layers of deceit and manipulation

Jealousy?

No, that was never my true nature

—–♡

My heart does not harbour envy or possessiveness

It instead beats with a fierce longing for truth, transparency, and respect

I find solace and joy in witnessing the triumphs and growth of others

In seeing them bask in the light of their own accomplishments

If someone discovers a new friendship that enriches their life

My heart rejoices

If they soar to new heights in their career and amass great wealth, I am genuinely happy for them

Their success does not diminish me; it ignites a spark of admiration

A recognition of their resilience and dedication

And beauty

I celebrate it!

When someone radiates with physical allure and captivates the attention of others

I am not consumed by jealousy

No, I am too captivated by their essence, their inner and outer grace

I am drawn to their magnetic charm, understanding that their attractiveness is but a facet of their captivating soul

—–♡

But reality has played it’s cruel tricks on me

Those partners who possessed beauty were not faithful…

Their deceit skillfully masked by accusations of my supposed jealousy

The wealthy ones wielded their fortune as a weapon…

Using their influence to control and demean

Whilst painting me as the green-eyed monster, resentful of their opulence

But my work, my passion, my purpose brought me a fulfilment that no amount of money could buy

And those “friends” I once envied?

They were never true friends at all

Beneath their false facade, they were betrayers, weaving tangled webs of infidelity and deception

Deep down, I sensed their treachery, but they skillfully manipulated my doubts

Convincing me that my intuition was merely the product of a jealous mind

—-♡

But I was never jealous…

I merely longed for honesty, for authenticity

I possess a rare gift, an intuition finely attuned to the whispers of deceit

And yet, I continue to doubt myself…

Doubting the very essence of who I am

Despite knowing deep in my core that my instincts have never led me astray

—–♡

I still hold onto hope

A flickering flame that refuses to be extinguished

Someday, I will find someone who embraces honesty as fiercely as I do

—–♡

I do not seek perfection

I crave a love that is rooted in trust and respect

For I am resilient, and I can weather any storm

As long as I am held by arms that value truth and integrity

I have a person in my life who came into it at a time when I needed him the most

He quite literally saved my life

If he hadn’t have given me the strength to leave a very toxic situation

I don’t know where I would be right now

He is broken and damaged just like me

If not more so

He understands me at a level no one else ever could

But he has an unwavering and undeniable strength that I lack

He is the calm to my storm

The level head to my crazy outbursts and overthinking

He pulls me out of the emotions that threaten to overwhelm and drown me with darkness

And without him, I feel like I am sat in an empty room in the dark

I didn’t realise how much I relied on his strength until it was taken away

I am like a crumbling building whose scaffolding was removed before I was fixed

My heart breaks knowing that he’s hurting too and I can’t reach for him

Never underestimate the impact other people can have on you

If he is my crutch, I don’t ever want to walk again

I just want him back