I feel my skin crawling, and I cannot do anything about it. It is a constant feeling, and it never gives in for a moment to let me regain strength. I don't like being the weaker person, but I am so far from perfect. I don't know if I can be the person he expects me to be. I act first think later. I have not grown out of this immature action. I still react without thinking. I am trying to control myself, but like a child I react to being ordered around. I feel myself wanting to run left instead of going right. I feel like I have failed, and I need to just stop before I hurt more people. I seem to be on this ridiculous road of self destruction. I do not know if it is my disorder or just me being the naturally selfish bitch that I have always been. I do not stop myself from writing or saying what first comes to my mind because I never have before. I have not even censored myself for my own parents. I know I can hurt others, and it is not my intention to do this.
I just fuck up because I am fucked up. It is simple really. What is not simple is trying to control my thoughts and actions when I feel loss of control. I want to run. I want to just escape from feeling this tension this disappointment and shame. I am in the fetal ready to end it all except I don't have that option because I have these midgets that need and love me despite the person I really am inside.
Inside my head I run every scenario. What would happen if? I took one too many pills and died. What would happen if? I let go of what is left of my sanity and go straight to the straight jacket. What if, I am never truly happy? What if, I keep self destructing until I am strung out living alone on welfare. Like a good Catholic I think this type of shit is what I need to experience for forgiveness.
I am just so tired. I'm tired of not being trusted because quite frankly I can't be. I don't like the new paranoia that keeps me up day and night and even invades my dreams. I know the hatred and disgust you have for me.
it is what it is.
Hippie Girl's Monolgue
I am a child of La Luna
I feel for you, big time. I have some good weeks and some bad weeks. Some nights I count out all of my xanax and trazodone pills to make sure I still have enough to do it. Life is tough and we are all only human... You have a beautiful reason not to - your lovely kids. My reason has always been my mom - I love her to death and I know she literally wouldn't be able to handle it. She suffers from constant anxiety and depression, and slight paranoid schizophrenia. She was sexually abused by her father her second year in college and had a nervous breakdown. A few years later she got with a really bad guy and he physically abused her for years, and her newborn baby. She had to give him up for adoption and never met him till she was 50. Then she had a relapse of alcoholism. But she is the nicest most lovely caring compassionate human you'd ever meet and she is my reason. I always think to myself as long as she is here so am I. But it scares me to think that she is 60 now and wont be around forever.
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