Maybe not a llama, but certainly not a human capable of complex emotions and thought processes.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Metallica lately. “The Unforgiven,” “Welcome Home (Sanitarium),” “Fade to Black,” for the most part. “The Unforgiven” seems fairly obvious even if the lyrics don’t exactly reflect my personal situation but it’s how I’ve felt for a long time. “Sanitarium” is because I did that to myself. I locked myself up. Click the link for “Fade to Black” and read the lyrics in the notes portion. Yup. That about sums it up. This afternoon some Dixie Chicks might have sneaked its way in. Because there is some shit I am not even remotely prepared to handle.
I have a lot of serious thinking to do. I have to somehow process a bunch of emotions, too. Then I might have to come up with a way to clearly and calmly explain all of that to someone else.
Instead of deleting the text from last week, unread, I went ahead and read it. It was not what I expected. I will have some explaining to do when I next see my therapist because he strongly advised against reading it. He brought up things that I had been fighting down in my head because I would not allow myself to even remotely consider that while I had done a lot of damage to these friends, they did some damage to me, too. I have fought like hell against even fully forming those thoughts. He kept bringing them up. And now, because I couldn’t fucking control my curiosity, I have to fit possible new information into this equation.
I’ve asked them to read this blog and to let me know, after they’ve read it, if they’d still like me to respond to that text. Aside from that text sent last week, the only communications I’ve had from them were one vague comment on a blog post and a very hurtful email, that, I will admit I had coming since it was in response to a horrible message of my own. Since August 13th, that’s all. And only from one person. For all I know, I am still the most vile cunt in the universe and should have died when I tried to kill myself as far as some people are concerned. I’m kind of leaning that way, too.
At any rate, I joined a “wine club” and I just received my first shipment of four bottles of wine so I have some drinking to do because I cannot in any way bring myself to process anything tonight. I’m confused, I’m hurt, I’m scared, and I’m fucking fed up with being me.