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why is it that when i desperately need someone to talk to, no one is available? can you explain that to me please? NOW is when i could really benefit from someone listening to me but no, everyone is either on the wrong coast or has gone to bed. FUCK. and now i have to update my fucking no harm contract. no, i didn't harm myself so i'm still safe. however, if i continue to get behind the wheel of my fucking car when i'm fucking irate i will end up in a fucking accident. at this point, i could care less. i'd rather slam into the median than feel this way. BECAUSE GUESS WHAT? I'VE BEEN THERE DONE THAT, REMEMBER? I'M STILL BOTTLING THINGS UP, STUFFING THEM DOWN, KEEPING THEM HIDDEN BECAUSE I'M NOT ALLOWED TO LET THEM OUT. AND GETTING OUT OF MY GODDAMN HOUSE WON'T CHANGE THAT. I'M TRADING ONE STIFLING ENVIRONMENT FOR ANOTHER. FUCK ME! AND YOU WANT ME TO CARE ABOUT COMING CLOSE TO 6 MONTHS INJURY FREE. WHY?
WHY THE HELL SHOULD I? IT'S NOT GOING TO COMFORT ME AS I GO TO SLEEP TONIGHT. IT'S NOT GOING TO MAKE ANYTHING EASIER.
I'M STILL GOING TO HURT SO FUCKING
MUCH THAT I CAN'T SEE STRAIGHT.
I'LL STILL HAVE A LITTLE GIRL INSIDE ME CURLED UP INTO A BALL, SOBBING AND SOBBING. SHE'S ALL ALONE IN THERE AND I CAN'T FUCKING HELP HER BECAUSE I'M TOO GODDAMN ANGRY. i'll still be inches away from giving into a tantalizing madness that ony i can see. and why not? the illusion of it is far more comforting than the reality i've made for myself.
and this is only the beginning, brian. if it's this bad now, how bad will it get? what about when it's like this for days on end? how will i cope then? how the hell am i supposed to do this alone? because no matter how much you or my family or my friends help me, bottom line is that it is my choice to stay safe. mine and mine alone. sometimes i choose to be safe for myself, sometimes i choose to be safe for someone else, sometimes i choose to be safe because of my contract. will the day come when none of that is enough? will the day come when i will be out of reasons to stay safe? will the day come when the reasons to stay safe don't matter as much as the reasons not to stay safe?
what i wouldn't give for a razor right now. i know exactly how it would feel and i wouldn't be dependent on anyone for that relief. I WOULDN'T BE DESPERATELY NEEDING TO TALK TO SOMEONE. instead of spending the last fifteen minutes writing this fucking e-mail, i would be calm, worn out, expended. i crave that feeling more than you can possibly imagine. BUT I'M FUCKING CHAINED TO THESE FUCKING FEELINGS THAT ARE EATING AWAY AT ME. WHEN THEY ARE DONE, WHAT WILL BE LEFT? HOW MUCH OF ME WILL WAKE UP WHOLE AND SANE TOMORROW? HOW MUCH OF ME WILL RETREAT IN SELF-DEFENSE?
BECAUSE RIGHT NOW IF I RETREATED FULLY I
WOULDN'T FUCKING CARE!
but tomorrow i'll have to wake up and paste a smile on my face for the world to see. meanwhile, behind my eyes will be a torrent of emotions that i do not dare acknowledge for fear they will blow my mind wide open. i'm not exaggerating either. you probably think i am but i'm not.
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