over. kaput. dead and gone.
No, I have to stop. I have to back out and get out of this thing before I go too far again. Already I can feel the obsessive-compulsive behaviour taking over me and I have to stop it like I've stopped all the other things that have tried taking me over.
I used to have disorders. They say that once you have OCD, you can never get rid of it but that's not true. I had it for a long time before I ever knew what it was. I stopped the little things I did before I ever knew what it was. It doesn't control my life anymore. This journal will be the end of me if I keep it going. I sound crazy? Look what happened last time. It's like some sort of fantasy world, having your innermost thoughts read by people you dont know. Before I know it I end up consumed by the need to write things that I dont even think, just so I'll be read.
It takes me over. I couldn't go to bed because I felt there was so much more to say to YOU. You is no one though. When I write it's supposed to be for myself. With pen and paper, I feel complete. With keyboard and screen, I feel obsessed and compelled, spurred on by thoughts that aren't mine.
Besides. I like keeping my writing to myself and not letting anyone read it. Because if I ever show anyone my deepest darkest thoughts, then that's it. That's all of me right out there with nothing else to see. There's nothing more to me than what I write, and I cant let anyone have such a big part of me.
So it was fun for all of two days. But it's over as quickly as it began.
The temptation is so great, it took me almost six months to overcome the obsession last time, but last night the fire was relit and off I went. All I have to do to stop myself is think back to last year and how miserable I was documenting my every thought and movement. I cant and wont do that again. I walked in to my room tonight and admired the way I have things set up. "I'll have to take photos of my room to proudly show off to anyone who might be interested!", I thought, whereas a month ago I looked around my room and couldn't wait for someone special to look around my room and just think, "that's so like her". The only people I should want to have access into my head and heart are those I know.
I'm sorry. I dont know you.
I used to have disorders. They say that once you have OCD, you can never get rid of it but that's not true. I had it for a long time before I ever knew what it was. I stopped the little things I did before I ever knew what it was. It doesn't control my life anymore. This journal will be the end of me if I keep it going. I sound crazy? Look what happened last time. It's like some sort of fantasy world, having your innermost thoughts read by people you dont know. Before I know it I end up consumed by the need to write things that I dont even think, just so I'll be read.
It takes me over. I couldn't go to bed because I felt there was so much more to say to YOU. You is no one though. When I write it's supposed to be for myself. With pen and paper, I feel complete. With keyboard and screen, I feel obsessed and compelled, spurred on by thoughts that aren't mine.
Besides. I like keeping my writing to myself and not letting anyone read it. Because if I ever show anyone my deepest darkest thoughts, then that's it. That's all of me right out there with nothing else to see. There's nothing more to me than what I write, and I cant let anyone have such a big part of me.
So it was fun for all of two days. But it's over as quickly as it began.
The temptation is so great, it took me almost six months to overcome the obsession last time, but last night the fire was relit and off I went. All I have to do to stop myself is think back to last year and how miserable I was documenting my every thought and movement. I cant and wont do that again. I walked in to my room tonight and admired the way I have things set up. "I'll have to take photos of my room to proudly show off to anyone who might be interested!", I thought, whereas a month ago I looked around my room and couldn't wait for someone special to look around my room and just think, "that's so like her". The only people I should want to have access into my head and heart are those I know.
I'm sorry. I dont know you.