Hamayim

I miss when my pain didn't have so many names.

I hate my parents so much

I need therapy

I miss my old fantasies. But I'm mature enough now to not let them become delusions.

Why must it be a fantasy to be loved and safe? 

Why is there still no joy in life? Nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for, no one to make me feel safe...all of it is so far away. Like a rainbow I'll never touch. 26 years and most of them were spent depressed, suppressed and isolated yet surrounded. 

Their lives have meaning because we, the living, refuse to forget them!

87k words into my novel. The most encompassing story I've ever written. Like a diary in code words.

Every time I see you on threads, I'm like, "don't engage, don't engage!"
          
          It's like having a huge crush on someone in the neighborhood that I won't approach because I'm too shy xD

Trauma is a bitch