Saturday, March 21, 2009

Frustration

I AM SO SICK OF THINKING ABOUT THIS.

Every time I reach that place of absolute sobriety, I attach myself to a rhythm. I'm less paranoid and shaky, unless something triggers me, but again that has less of a chance of happening. But every time I find that rhythm, every time my thoughts slow down to a normal pace (which is too damn slow if you ask me), IT'S ALL I FUCKING THINK ABOUT. His face, her face, the coat he wore, the way he smelled, the way her breath always stank of wine, the fact that I have no guarantee of safety, and part of life is that I never will. It never ends. There's always more, more, more to think about because I haven't remembered everything and therefore can't fully get all the awfulness out of my mind. I'm sick of writing in this blog about the same damn thing all the time. What else is there to write about? It all connects to my past at some point, and it will until I don't have PTSD anymore.

I want it to be two months from now so I can start school and have an ongoing distraction. A good distraction, not the kind that shuts off my brain. I don't think I mean this, but I wish I had a job. I'm tired of sitting around dwelling on everything, which is pretty much inevitable right now. But it's not dwelling, it's processing, there's just an assload of it and it seems like the deeper I dig the more there is to find. I'm scared to really rest or begin to feel safe because that's always when the memories start to push through. Though they seem to do that no matter what I do, just trying to block them out gives me more control over just how much I see...I think.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Oh jesus fuck my sister emailed me back.

I don't know what to do with this. I was beginning to believe she'd never respond, I was beginning to be okay with that, but now...I haven't read it. I swear my heart skipped like five beats when I saw it. The subject is "Yay!", though experience has taught me that that could be totally misleading. My mind's on fire. I totally didn't expect this. This is a really bad time for this. Well, bad isn't the right word. My curiousity is piqued. This is a stressful time for this. This is making my back hurt. I need to stop thinking about it for a little while because something's gonna break gonna break.

Stress makes me link to random things. Actually this one is more fitting.