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Sunday, July 14, 2013

What am I supposed to do with this mess?

Clever I am, or so I thought. But the mess that sits at my feet reminds me clever has had nothing to do with it. More like ignorant optimism that everything would work out. I have not stood for anything my entire life. Where have I really put my life on the line for anything? Consequently I am, yet again, awash in the sea of Despair. This allegory has been repeated and repeated, cyclical and redundant. Now that a year is gone, D thinks I should be fine. He doesn't realize where on the spectrum of fuck up I am sitting. What have I accomplished except screwing up a gaggle of children?


Why do I feel this way? Too much to divulge if I am to pretend. I am living in an intolerable situation with D claiming he is going to leave over and over. How can I move on when he is stalking me in my own home. I have no privacy, no space at all. I understand the despair that comes with taking one's life. The anxiety that must lead up to the act. I feel like I am reaching that point at times.