Falling

Have you ever felt that even gravity is giving up on you? That maybe the next time you step out the door, you'll be flung out into space at a (hopefully) terminal velocity?

For the last month or so, I've felt that daily. Like I'm at the top of the Tower of Terror for the second drop and my guts are in my chest as I anticipate the fall...but this time I'm not in Disney World and there's no happy ending.

I feel like I need to push everyone I care about as far from me as possible. I don't want them near me because I'm afraid they'll get sucked out into the vacuum with me if they're too close.

It hurts to talk, hurts to listen hurts to do anything and I fucking hate myself for being so pathetic and cliche. Twenty years ago I was spouting my painful garbage into my black journal, confident I was the only girl in the world who felt things as deeply and tragically as I did. What crap. Now I laugh at the little emo kids, penning dark prose, wearing dark clothes (losers, I used to buy the shit you pay top dollar for at the Sally Ann and Army Surplus) and hair and makeup artfully designed to gain notice.

Meh

What do you do when that shit follows you like herpes? Therapy, drugs, more drugs, more therapy...fuck it. I've done the Freudian shit and behavioural shit and taken more drugs than Keith Richards.

So here it is, random bullshit that I can post and no one will read. I don't worry about hurting anyone's feelings, or play the bullshit game with therapists, I'll just dump my garbage here, and see if it helps me get through the day