It's All Part Of The "Process"
All this week I've been waiting. Wallowing in self pity.
Certain that I was at the precipice(what a bloody cliche),....a moth has just landed on the desk as I write-in the dark..I hope it can't read, I hate people reading what I'm writing as I write it....fuck I hate thinking that people read my writing at all...it makes me squirm with embarassment....but wait, moths aren't people (but still...it's still there....twidling it's antennae...people or not)
anyway....
Third breakdown of my life,....that's what I was thinking.
my insides all twisted up in anguish, in guilt...in sorrow...and that fucking disgraceful self pity.
I suffered like a little bitch...before work, on my way to work...at work (obviously)...on my way home, eating dinner,brushing my teeth.lying in bed. Christ, what is it exactly that makes me so horrific a human being...that I feel I must punish myself so brutally? I'm exhausted. I don't know who I'm ment to be.
the desperate booking of a psychotherapy session, early afternoon just gone. stopped me from thinking I was shattering just yet.. My only fear is that, I want to. it isn't that I enjoy torturing myself persay...(hhhuhhh hmmmm).it's just...well.I guess I think if someone has to do it- it may as well be me.
We discussed the fact, that I don't need to deal with the actual grief...of "losing" my dad...or the fact I nearly burst into tears everytime I see a kid with their dad embracing or all of that kind of shit...all that I never had and always wanted,...waited for- even now when I'm 28. apparently I don't just have to accept it and get over it. I have to "process" it...get it out of my messed up system....hell. there are so many things I need to "process" though. will it work? how do things that hurt and cannot be changed for the better...start to feel..better?
Certain that I was at the precipice(what a bloody cliche),....a moth has just landed on the desk as I write-in the dark..I hope it can't read, I hate people reading what I'm writing as I write it....fuck I hate thinking that people read my writing at all...it makes me squirm with embarassment....but wait, moths aren't people (but still...it's still there....twidling it's antennae...people or not)
anyway....
Third breakdown of my life,....that's what I was thinking.
my insides all twisted up in anguish, in guilt...in sorrow...and that fucking disgraceful self pity.
I suffered like a little bitch...before work, on my way to work...at work (obviously)...on my way home, eating dinner,brushing my teeth.lying in bed. Christ, what is it exactly that makes me so horrific a human being...that I feel I must punish myself so brutally? I'm exhausted. I don't know who I'm ment to be.
the desperate booking of a psychotherapy session, early afternoon just gone. stopped me from thinking I was shattering just yet.. My only fear is that, I want to. it isn't that I enjoy torturing myself persay...(hhhuhhh hmmmm).it's just...well.I guess I think if someone has to do it- it may as well be me.
We discussed the fact, that I don't need to deal with the actual grief...of "losing" my dad...or the fact I nearly burst into tears everytime I see a kid with their dad embracing or all of that kind of shit...all that I never had and always wanted,...waited for- even now when I'm 28. apparently I don't just have to accept it and get over it. I have to "process" it...get it out of my messed up system....hell. there are so many things I need to "process" though. will it work? how do things that hurt and cannot be changed for the better...start to feel..better?
Comments
Post a Comment
tell me what you're thinking...