ouch, i've hurt myself again

the beast of the pain i felt these past 2 months has slowly simmered to a dull sadness, a numbed and dumbed down love, an empty acceptance of sorts, with scar tissue masking a deep betrayal i'm unsure i'll ever recover from.

with that said... shit's ok. i mean, truly, i could be on the streets engaging in the same colorful, fucked up behaviors i once did. i'm doing my best to take a healthier approach to all of this. i get tired of talking about it. tired of hearing about it from others. tired of the consistent thoughts that flash through my head as i walk silently by myself. tired of the thoughts and memories that haunt those moments before my slumber.

i just want to flash forward to a year from now where i am stronger, happier, and more ok. i understand that this adversity, this struggle, this torment, will make way for a better and more adjusted me. i get that. i just want the time on the clock to move faster, the scabs to heal faster, the thoughts to be more quickly removed from my mind.

i keep trying to understand how you are so unaffected by your actions, how you're so ok by this pain you've inflicted on me, how you could ever say you loved or cared about me and yet so cruelly and swiftly stabbed me with a callous and narcissistic and hurtful weapon that i'm still trying to recover from.

misha i could understand. his hateful words, his inconsideration, his leaving this world... i could understand. you, on the other hand, paint this picture of serenity, of compassion, of an empty-fucked-up-namaste bullshit message that leaves no room in my heart for forgiveness. maybe because you strike me as a phony. and i'm more disappointed in myself for not seeing you for who you really are.

is this the lesson i must learn?

sometimes i feel like the only time i'm happy is when i have a drink in my hand, when my mind is clear of these thoughts, when the only voice i hear is that of the music playing.

no escape this time, silly girl. time to face your demons.