I don't know who I am, or what I want. I can't help but blame Mom. The one time in my life I felt free, I felt like myself, I kept trying to tell her about it, about the things that made me feel like myself, and I felt like she just sat there judging me about it. Yeah, it was also sex, and I understand why that probably made her feel uncomfortable, but COME ON. I AM YOUR DAUGHTER, TALK TO ME. ABOUT ME. DO I MATTER TO YOU? DO I ACTUALLY MATTER? Or was I just a convenient tool for self-therapy (that didn't work? Not that it could have, that's not how you get yourself healthy.) I just can't separate myself from not having been able to help you, thereby finally helping myself in any kind of a real way.
I think that's it, I think that's my main problem with her. Everything is about her. When we're togeter, it's about her. I don't even know how to talk about myself. I think I just need to stop caring about her. Because the second I do, I stop panicking. I stop the sobbing I've been doing for the last hour (it seems like that long, at least,) and I can think, and I can breathe, but then what? I think, what next? The next thought is, I can do things i need to get done, but I just want to take a second to enjoy being able to breathe, being able to enjoy just being, but even that even thinking of stopping to just enjoy being throws me into this thought spiral again and then i am thinking, I am spiraling, but I was just reading a book about a person who can't escape her spirals, so is that me? I can't see how it can be. Is it even a thing I did before? I keep thinking of the first time that I realized, really REALIZED that the pictures I see in my head, the existence I see there wasn't reality, well, I knew THAT, the existence I saw was of a prehistoric place with huge cliffs and mountains and a waterfall and river and dinosaurs, dinosaurs everywhere, then it all fading out and realizing that I'm in my classroom, my jerk of a teacher was talking about who knows what, AND THAT MOMENT OF SHIFT IS MY LIFE. I live the life in my head, and my body lives the life in the world, and that moment of in between the two is the only time I really FEEL. Or that my feelings feel real.
But I read the beginning of the last paragraph and I feel calm again. So I'll stop there.
I think that's it, I think that's my main problem with her. Everything is about her. When we're togeter, it's about her. I don't even know how to talk about myself. I think I just need to stop caring about her. Because the second I do, I stop panicking. I stop the sobbing I've been doing for the last hour (it seems like that long, at least,) and I can think, and I can breathe, but then what? I think, what next? The next thought is, I can do things i need to get done, but I just want to take a second to enjoy being able to breathe, being able to enjoy just being, but even that even thinking of stopping to just enjoy being throws me into this thought spiral again and then i am thinking, I am spiraling, but I was just reading a book about a person who can't escape her spirals, so is that me? I can't see how it can be. Is it even a thing I did before? I keep thinking of the first time that I realized, really REALIZED that the pictures I see in my head, the existence I see there wasn't reality, well, I knew THAT, the existence I saw was of a prehistoric place with huge cliffs and mountains and a waterfall and river and dinosaurs, dinosaurs everywhere, then it all fading out and realizing that I'm in my classroom, my jerk of a teacher was talking about who knows what, AND THAT MOMENT OF SHIFT IS MY LIFE. I live the life in my head, and my body lives the life in the world, and that moment of in between the two is the only time I really FEEL. Or that my feelings feel real.
But I read the beginning of the last paragraph and I feel calm again. So I'll stop there.
