index
older
profile
book
notes
cast
Links
Rings
Reviews
render
diaryland
(Bleeding-}
{2003-03-11} {11:36 a.m.}
Would you like to purchase a cheap ticket to enter my theatre? Or, how about a glass of my unhappy blissfulness? Sip it delicately so you won't feel my pain.
Today I went to therapy (naturally) and cried my eyes out. Not from pain or hurt but from anger. I entered the stage of sadness and even though I was there with another person I felt so alone. I feel like my therapist can't understand me, nor does she try to. I pour out my mind, body, and soul every Monday like clockwork...yet nothing changes. We agreed for me to meet certain goals before the end of each week, yet no matter how hard I try, I can't do anything right. I'm tired of not winning. I want something that says I have achieved something. A book mark, a plaque…. Anything amazing. I try to explain myself and my instances to her on a weekly basis but I just can't seem to find that "fire" I am so desperately searching for. I find a place where I would like to be, but the peripatetic wandering wears me out. Yet, I move on as if I have found a destination of where I want to be. But, all I find is darkness. Single-handedly I feel like I have no reason to advance forward. For I have found that I am all alone and unaccompanied with any reassurance, or faith in any kind of encouragement. My devotion is trying to do better between myself and a conviction bordered by a lack of achievements. In the midst of everything my time is ready to collapse and I can’t stop it. Fatality is my only way of survival. I approach myself in many ways;hopeful that I can find a positive let-out. I never can tho. I only find myself back in my world of dissolution universally known as the human race. I compete against battles I know that I may never win, and strive to make the best of every effort. I hate the environment that I was brought up in. Maybe if I wasn’t so abused I wouldn’t be the way I am now. Perhaps it’s the location of my heart. The scene of cold dark emptiness breaks me until I am falling. The worthlessness I feel takes over and make me breathe my last breath. Depression is greater than any misery I have ever felt. The despair makes me think “suicide”. I become despondent and so heartbroken with inconsolable hope. The gut wrenching pain with a twinge of tenderness tries to heal my soul. I take that compassion and pliability to the very core of my heart. I don’t know if the character of my spirit has the capability to tolerate much more. Does this mean I am trailing behind my potential? Maybe someday I will find the dedication to persevere. So, once again I am here openly bleeding for a second time.