Today...

Today was going along fine. I woke up in a good mood, didn't fall asleep at my job, and got a lot of work done. I was hoping it would be a good day, that's all I've been wanting.

Then I came home and saw something I shouldn't have looked at on the internet and the deep sinking feeling in my chest started to happen and that's when the panic kicked in. After pacing around my room frantically, taking a hot shower, and 2 klonopins later, I thought I'd be fine. Then I laid down in my bed and decided to write for the first time in a really long time. Not in here, but in my own personal written journal. I thought getting everything out would be good, then all of a sudden I couldn't control it anymore and the next thing I knew my pillow was stained with tears and I couldn't move my body. I've been doing so well, why couldn't I have just stayed this way?

I noticed recently that when I start to open up about my feelings and my life, I can't look at the person I am talking to in the eyes. As I was crying and spilling my guts out in therapy once, my therapist stopped and asked me "why are you hiding from me?" Maybe it's because I don't want people seeing me like that. Maybe it's because I don't feel justified in feeling the way that I do. Sad, broken, lost, pathetic. Poor little girl right? Her life is so hard. The sarcasm loaded in that fragment notes how I don't feel entitled to feel the way I feel about anything. If I'm sad, I don't feel it's right to simply just feel that way, I have to fix it. All these little problems I always feel like I have to "fix" when really, I just need to calm the fuck down. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

It's so hard for me to word out how I feel about anything and anybody anymore. But I guess feeling that heavy feeling in my heart and shedding those tears showed me that at least I'm not broken.