I couldn’t help but wonder:
Do we all carry a secret fantasy,
a vision of revenge that keeps us going through the toughest times?

i have this secret fantasy in my head.
a clear vision of how i’d like my life to turn out.
it’s what keeps me going as i suffer.
it’s a vision of me finally happy…

I want everyone to look at this picture.

many of us are scared of this picture.
why?
well…

i was scrolling through a reddit thread that made me pause and think.
i want all my Foxholers to remember something when it comes to relationships:

Just because you didn’t pick “the good guy,”
or let “the one who got away” slip through your paws,
doesn’t mean those relationships would have worked out.

it’s the loneliness talking when we see them thriving.
i once had a wolf who was “the good guy” that i lost out on in the past and…

I told three people today that it’s the anniversary of Star Fox’s death.
Two vixens; one wolf.

the vixens gave me some supportive words,
while the wolf,
well,
turned it back to himself.
we spent the rest of the text talking about him.
Not to font vixens are better—
i’ve met my share of self-absorbed vixens as well.

just yesterday,
i was telling my therapist that irl,
i come off like i have it all together.
on the Foxhole,
i’m painfully honest with my community but my walls are up to those i know.

I carry myself in a certain way,
trying to exude confidence and composure.
I look like I have it all figured out,
maintaining my overall presentation whenever I’m #outside. 
I put my best paws forward,
aiming for acceptance by those around.

what i’ve learned tho?…

When I was dealing with Work Wolf,
the anticipation of what was going to happen next took me under.
The anxiety over which vixen he’d be into next left me spiraling.
I made the mistake of falling deeply in love with him,
hoping he’d finally see me and choose me.
Every time I saw him at work with another vixen,
whether it was talking or he spoke about his interest,
my heart would race and I’d find myself in the bathroom.
I’d be physically sick from stress and I’d “release” by throwing up.
Bad enough,
I was dealing with so much on my plate from work and horrible bosses.
When that finally ended and we went our separate ways,
I weighed 120 lbs from 160.
I am 5’11.

Fast forward to my last job.
I was under so much stress by the consistent work load they’d pile on me.
Front desk,
office manager,
mail clerk,
payroll,
greeting celebrities,
and being a personal assistant to everyone in the office.
Every day,
I would be picked apart and nit picked by all 3 of my bosses.
Nothing I ever did was right.
Despite being well-liked by many,
including the celebs that walked in the door,
my bosses’ jealousy and envy made my days a living nightmare.
The daily pressure had me running to the bathroom to throw up after every meal.
At my going away party,
the photos showed a gaunt,
almost unrecognizable face.
I wear a 32 in pants but had to tighten my belt to the last hole.

this morning,
it happened again…

there is nothing worse than a dick sucka.
i’m fonting about the types that even someone claims they were a victim,
the dick sucka will get on their knees to show support to the monster.
its like the folks who disrespected r. kelly’s victims because they fucked to his music.
we wonder why people don’t speak up.
the following video of diddy abusing cassie triggered me heavy.
trigger warning ahead…