I’m home now and I’ve been crying for the last maybe 45 minutes and counting. And I don’t actually want everyone to tell me I’ve got it wrong, actually I’ve got so much going for me, because I know. I know, I know, I know. But I can’t feel it right now. I know intellectually things will get better, my mood will change, everything will be fine. Right now, though, I feel terrible, and if I just suppress it I’m going to feel even worse.[br][br]It’s like…everything around me just seems like a reminder right now of how ugly or useless I am, or what a bad mother I am, or any number of other things that I’m sure aren’t true, but right now I feel it, and I can’t help it. And then this other voice pops into my head telling me how stupid all of this is, and it’s just another reminder of how screwed up I really can be, and there just seems no way out of it right now. And the saddest thing is that I know what’s going to happen – eventually, I’m going to run out of the energy to cry, and I’ll just sit here staring blankly into the screen, totally dissociated from everything, then suddenly come to, wonder where all the time went, and then carry on with life like everything is normal.[br][br]When it’s NOT normal. It’s just NOT NORMAL. If it were normal, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. I wouldn’t be sitting here thinking how much I miss my mom, and then having these awful, painful thoughts about what the hell I’m going to do after she dies some day and what an ungrateful daughter I’ve probably been, and how selfish I might be – then I catch myself, notice what I’m doing, that I’m slipping back into all the classic trappings of my own mind. Even while the thoughts are rushing through my head, I’m absent-mindedly ripping skin off my scalp, my face, and then I’m back to thinking I’m such a freak, I’m so hideous. George came in twice to hold me, and all I could think was why the hell does this man want to marry me? I’m so disgusting. And I KNOW it’s probably not true, I know he has his flaws too, I know we both made mistakes, but my head, it just won’t allow me to feel it, to feel anything sensible. And fine if that happened from time to time, but it happens ALL THE TIME, and I’m just so sick of it. [br][br]I don’t know how I’m meant to keep this up for, say, 60 more years. I know, when I’m in a better mood, I’m going to be back to being terrified of ever dying, wishing I could live forever because everything’s so amazing, but right now all I can think is oh my God I’m only 25, I might have to repeat all of this two times over still.[br][br]I guess I’m caught in self-pity mode…but we all deserve that every now and then, right? Everyone does. Life is really hard. And right now I’m just stuck in the usual depressing cycle of thought, where my life is flashing through my mind and I’m just seeing how many awful things have happened in it, or to me, how much sh*t I’ve really had to deal with, how much abuse I’ve had to put up with from people ever since I was even conceived…and I just feel like, why? Why am I even still alive? What the hell was the point of even bringing me into the world if life was going to be like this? Fair enough if times are hard, because they can change…but what do you do when the biggest problem in your life is your own brain? I mean, how does one change that, exactly? There’s just NOTHING that can be done for it, I’ve tried everything, for years and years, this is it, this is what I am and sure some things will change but a lot won’t, because it can’t. In fact, I’ve done my research. It’s going to get worse. It already is. That’s why I’m having the damn CT scan – because I’m getting worse. Why the hell am I getting worse?[br][br]I just feel like I can’t do it anymore. And I know I will, I know I’ll carry on, I know all this. But everything just feels…so broken, right now.[br][br]And some people on here are SO nice, it’s incredible…and I’ve got so many friends, really, if I think about it. But I can’t bring myself to talk to anyone personally. I can’t just pick up the phone and call someone, or even actually bring myself to speak to George, when I’m like this. I’m so paralysed by my own head, it’s shocking. I mean, all the anger I always feel…it’s like something out of ‘Full House’ – who are you really angry at? *hangs head in shame* ‘Myself.’ Or, my head, anyway.[br][br]I’m glad I finally have an explanation for the locked-in emotions things. Autism. I wish someone had told me this years ago. All those times when I’d been accused of shutting down and being cold and mean, when really I’d hear all the things I wanted to say, in my head, and I’d keep trying to say them but for some inexplicable reason I couldn’t actually get my mouth to move, couldn’t get my voice to work. It’s like being caught in a dream where you’re being attacked and you try to scream for help but you find you can’t manage more than a whisper, so no one knows to come to your aid and you’re left there to be murdered. Does anyone else have those dreams? Because I’ve had them so many times I’ve lost count – except I’m lucid enough to change everything so I don’t die. But…I can’t believe I never before understood why I kept dreaming that so much. Or all my dreams about blind and crippled people, or people bound up with rope, helpless, trapped, and me feeling guilty about it. Always suppressing some part of me. I’ve known this for years, but…understanding how it REALLY applies to my life…it’s all my self-expression. [br][br]Everyone has the wrong idea of me because I can’t speak. People think because I can talk and talk people’s ears off for hours on end, in monologues by myself, about facts about music or something like that, that boy can she speak! But I can’t. I mean…in a way, I’m reciting. I’m not saying anything, it’s all empty. I had this idea for years that, because I talked so much, I was very open. Then one day George commented he thought I was very closed off, and I was stunned. And then I realised, he’s right. About the important things. I’ve got a block. But it’s not some trauma thing. I’m sure that can’t help it, but really I can tell the difference and this isn’t trauma, this is just…I can’t physically do it. I WANT to. I’m not being shy or even scared. I keep trying to speak, but it’s like my brain refuses to send the signal to my mouth and make it happen.[br][br]And it’s been over an hour and I’m still here crying. This is just ridiculous. I’ve barely eaten in four days, too. I had a full dinner yesterday, but nothing else but Pringles and chocolate. Saturday I only had chocolate and cookies. Today I had some grapes and shredded wheat, and then nothing. Nothing at all. It’s 8pm and I’m here thinking I don’t even feel like dinner. I’m going to go eat it though because I can’t give in to this.[br][br]But…God I’m so tired of fighting it all off. Why CAN’T I just fall apart for a while? Maybe that’s what I need. I just…I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Why the hell did I put so much beautiful and sad music on my playlist here? Maybe I just…need to turn off the music, or something. Get a grip. [br][br]I’m starting to reach that point where I just feel totally empty and question the reality of everything and whether it even matters if I live or die. I’ve got to go distract myself. I know how ugly this gets.