'cause i don't love anybody, that stuff is just a waste of time [superduper filtered]
I can't say anything.
All I have left is refuge in old habits. Old methods of dealing, what do I call them in psychology -- I don't even remember. Disassociation, repression, regression, displacement, something methods, methods of something. But I am not doing enough, I am not doing well, I am failing, I am a failure. I don't understand.
You have to understand-- I don't understand. And I'm scared to ask, scared to reveal my faults -- and I haven't called the people at the place where the help could be, where it isn't. My mind doesn't make sense; tears prick at my eyes. There is nothing. No, that's not true. There is boycotting lunch in favor of tiled bathrooms and scissors and crying so hard that no sound comes out. Please leave me alone. There is an endless succession of classes I don't understand and words that I mouth which make no sense and tasks that are endless and not mindless, mindful, but somehow it's not kicking in.
I am losing my mind. I am seriously losing it. And I won't tell him because maybe he'll worry. But sitting in a room full of computers, feeling stupid and blinking back tears, isn't how I wanted to spend today.
(If I cut today, he'll see it when he visits. What the hell am I thinking? [No, he won't. It's another ten days. I still have time.])
All I have left is refuge in old habits. Old methods of dealing, what do I call them in psychology -- I don't even remember. Disassociation, repression, regression, displacement, something methods, methods of something. But I am not doing enough, I am not doing well, I am failing, I am a failure. I don't understand.
You have to understand-- I don't understand. And I'm scared to ask, scared to reveal my faults -- and I haven't called the people at the place where the help could be, where it isn't. My mind doesn't make sense; tears prick at my eyes. There is nothing. No, that's not true. There is boycotting lunch in favor of tiled bathrooms and scissors and crying so hard that no sound comes out. Please leave me alone. There is an endless succession of classes I don't understand and words that I mouth which make no sense and tasks that are endless and not mindless, mindful, but somehow it's not kicking in.
I am losing my mind. I am seriously losing it. And I won't tell him because maybe he'll worry. But sitting in a room full of computers, feeling stupid and blinking back tears, isn't how I wanted to spend today.
(If I cut today, he'll see it when he visits. What the hell am I thinking? [No, he won't. It's another ten days. I still have time.])