Moss and Mushrooms

Would you always?

TW: anxiety, references suffocation

5th step
I stare out his parked car window, I'm telling him things I haven't told anyone.
I tell him all the bad things, things I wasn't ever going to share, and maybe it is awful but I'm not as disgusting as I thought I was.
He tells me that maybe I don't have to do it that way, I tell him I never thought of that. I am not quite the monster I thought I was.
I relay the things I feel immense shame about and he doesn't say a word, he's heard this before, I'm not the first, I won't be the last.
I keep reading from the list until I am done. I know that I have hurt people but I have the sense that I can be good.
He points out the patterns that are suffocating me, he shows me that there are no hands around my neck but my own, he tells me about the self defeating patterns that have been there all along.
I know that if I refuse to let these things go I will never be whole.
I sit with it. I thought it would be a crushing weight but it brings me a relief I haven't ever known before. There's a type of heaviness lifted from me.
We drive to a church parking lot, I rip out the pages and I watch as they burn. I watch as they collapse into themselves and turn into ash.

Victim complex
I won't spend my whole life as a victim, it happened and it hurt but it's over now.
I am tired of reliving it, there is nothing left here, and I find myself choosing to stay in the rot.
I stay in the rot of what happened, I stay in those moments that scarred me, I stay in this endless victimhood.
I think I am going to be suffocated if I don't let this go, and in the end I will be the one who led me there, it will not be a murder but a suicide.
I refuse to spend my whole life sore.

Elated rambles
I don't really know how to explain it. I don't really understand it either.
Things have never been this good, I am happy and I mean it.
I couldn't live with it until I could. I couldn't let go until I could. I couldn't feel joy until I could.
I didn't think I could find my way out of the hole and I did. I am alive and I want to be.
The little moments are adding up. I pray a lot. I got a job. I listen to new music. I'm writing about different things I think.
I live in a sense of elation and panic. I'm smiling and laughing and my heart is racing. I'm shaking and I can't really tell if it is as heavy as it feels.
I go to bed late and I wake up early. I drink too much coffee.
I'm trying to be different. I'll tell you more than I've ever told anyone. I'll notice the patterns that have defined me. There's a lot to write about outside of the pain.
It's too loud in here. It's always too loud here.
I second guess it, I second guess it before it's even done.
I'm happy and I have no idea what's going on. I am happy but I am still hallucinating. I am happy but my heart is racing and I feel like I can never let my shoulders down.

Late Novembers last lines
Sad over PTSD stuff tonight.
Good stuff.
Trying to be grateful and trust god.
I think I am on the right path.
Trying to stay grateful.
Also went to AA.
Things feel so weird.
I had things I wasn't going to tell him but I will.
Life is good.
I can make this right by him as long as I keep trying to get better.
Overwhelmed but happy.
I feel overwhelmed but I don't really know why.

Letters to god
I'm sorry I ever doubted you.
Please help me be good.
Thank you for everything.
I want to learn to live with it.
Thank you for helping me be good.
I love you!
I know I have to be grateful.
Please change me into someone good.