I had a difficult night. I do outreach every Friday night, basically, my co-volunteers and I look for homeless and at-risk youth to talk to, and try to help in whatever way. I was messed up before I even left home tho. I stayed up all night trying to get a paper done, and didn't manage. So, I should be sleeping right now in order to wake up early, finish it, and email it to my prof. But instead I'm complaining in a blog.
Anyway, I was having trouble not crying, even tho I wasn't sure why. I managed to get through the night, but pretty much collapsed at my best friend/boyfriend or exboyfriend's place, where I stopped at the way home. I really didn't want to take up too much of his time or be an emotional drain. He's had a tough time lately. But I just cried and cried like a child. Actually I was talking like a child too. And I experienced some really disturbing memories I just couldn't shake. I know it was difficult for him, but he sat with me and talked with me until I was okay to go home.
So, I'm grateful, really, I'm very very very lucky to have him in my life. But I hate that our similar problems both bind us together and push us apart. Maybe this is selfish, but I love him so much, and I feel on a night like this I belong in his bed. I don't want to be alone tonight. And I'm not with anyone else because I love him.
Okay, well that was my self-pity for the night. Like I said, I should be sleeping. But I'm scared that my memory will follow me in my dreams. It was super creepy. Worse than a memory, I could feel it. I kept falling into a weird trance, and the present didn't feel real. I felt like I was actually four years old or so, and I could feel horrible things on my body.
I can't believe someone would hurt a child like that. I wish my father knew that my body remembers everything he did to me. I want my past off my skin! Sometimes in my dreams it feels so real it actually hurts!
Well, it feels good to share. I know I shouldn't be ashamed, this isn't my fault. It's my sick father's fault.
And I miss my love. When things were better between us, I used to sleep over once or twice a week. I wake up screaming or jumping out of bed pretty often. But he'd just hug me and caress me and I'd fall right back asleep. No one else has ever had that effect on me. He's the only person I'm not scared to be unconscious around.
Did I mention I'm putting off going to sleep? I'm scared to sleep. Scared of the nightmares. And I can hear my brother walking around. He's doing his nightly routine from the kitchen to his room, over and over again for fresh beer. Then he'll start doing a really bad job of trying to teach himself the guitar.
Yes, I miss my love. I miss his apartment. I miss his bed. I miss his arms. I miss his smell. I even miss his breathe and his sweat (everyone sweats in Florida!). Most of all I miss the way he can say "sleep" and it works like magic. I can't believe the way he moves me. So I'm going to try to pretend I'm with him as I fall asleep. Maybe that will keep me safe. My paper's already late. I can't afford to lose tomorrow, and that happens sometimes when I have a bad night — I'll spend the next day messed up.
okay, enough, for real now, i'll try to sleep.