I’m so crazy.  I hate the way I feel.  I hate holding these feelings in, but I don’t want to be the one who’s always bringing people down.  I don’t want to be a constant burden.  I don’t want to come off like some kind of freaking victim. 

I don’t know what I want.  And, I don’t know how to live.

I just know how to survive. 

Maybe. I’ve been kidding myself, this whole time.

"I woke up before you in the total darkness
Early morning
I could hear the wind in the trees
I was looking for the light to bring you out
From the shadows
Redefine you now for only me"

I don’t feel strong, right now.  I just feel frail, and alone.  And, it hurts like hell.  So many things do…

I keep seeing things in my head – things I haven’t thought about, or let myself think about, in years.  I would’ve talked to Charlie about this shit, once upon a time.  But, I can’t dump on him about any of this, now.  I just can’t – our relationship is in flux, and he’s not moving closer (he’s actually pulling away). 

"And honey i’m sure
That you’ve been in love before
Plenty of men have held high places in your eyes
And jealousy has got no use for me
The past is beautiful
Like the darkness between the fireflies"

And, I already wear down and depress the people who try to get close to me (or help me).  If I were to dump on them about the real dark stuff in my head (the stuff I’ve barely hinted at, here, because it’s too terrible), I’d probably drive them away, completely, and that would break my heart. 

God, I hate being alone when my thoughts are racing, and God…  I hate myself so much.  I want out of this.  This kick…  this pain…  these thoughts and feelings…  THIS SKIN…  I JUST WANT OUT OF ALL OF IT.

There are things I needed to say today that I didn’t trust the new therapist enough to express. And, I haven’t tried getting into it with anyone else who cares about me, because it’s just too much.  It’s all so ugly.

The things I’ve lived through, and seen…

"I was driving faster through the appalachians
I could see the world go out below me in the sun
You should know by now
That someone’s always been there
Long before you
You’re never going to be the only one"

The man who raped me…  he was my first boyfriend.  A few years older than me (he was seventeen – I was a virgin).  He kept me in that apartment, a badly lit space, with Navajo white walls, (and trash piled up everywhere but in the garbage cans) and over-flowing ash trays, for eight hours.  He raped me, at least twice, but I lost cosnciousness at least once, and a lot of it blurs together in my head.  He beat me, and cut me, and told me to beg.  I refused.  I wouldn’t even cry out.  It seems impossible, looking back, but I know I never made a sound.  It was the one thing I focused on – in my stubborn, bitchy way, I was trying to hold onto something.  Something he couldn’t take from me.  I remember thinking that there had to be something – something he couldn’t take (I had no doubt he was going to kill me – after he cut me I was wishing he’d just finish it, but I wasn’t going to beg for life, or for death).  Tears ran down my face, but I would not scream or cry out.  He was an athiest, and we’d always argued abbout that sort of thing.  When he cut me, he said, "where’s your God now, bitch?"

"Not here," I thought.  I remembered reading some Anglican notion about hell being the absence of God.  The idea being that, hell’s not stationary – it’s anyplace where there’s no trace of good, and thusly, no presence of God.  God wasn’t there – and, something evil was.  That room was my own little hell, and I suppose…  part of me still exists there.  Just like part of me still clings to The Center, and all the friends I lost there.  All the people I miss so much, that I used to hide in my own head, just to give them some continued existence in my imagination. 

"And honey I’m sure
That you’ve been in love before
Plenty of men have held high places in your eyes
But jealousy has got no use for me
The past is beautiful
Like the darkness between the fireflies
Beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies"  (Mason Jennings, "The Darkness Between The Fireflies")

As far as the attack goes, I’ll never know what that f@cker took from me – who I might have been if hadn’t jacked up my body and mind, like that.  I’ll never know if I feel the things the same way other women do.  I never got to experience anything prior to the butcher’s handiwork, so I have no frame of reference.  I’ll always be scarred, and damaged.

I’ll never be right.

I feel so alone, right now.

I need to stop this.  I’ll be okay.

I will be okay.

All that sh*t’s a million miles away, now.

And, I am okay, now.

I just need to breathe…

Slowly…

Deeply…

Calmly…

And, relax…

Everything is gonna to be okay.

Somehow…