I'm debating seeing a therapist.

I just don't know where my insurance card is at...
Sometimes I feel like I could cry for days and it simply wouldn't be enough. I believe that's why I often don't cry. What's the point of starting something you can't finish? When i do cry it's merely like an overflowing tub, filled beyond capacity.
Truth of the matter is, I'm only debating seeing a therapist because I don't have anyone else to talk to. I feel as though there really isn't anyone I can be honest with, be myself with, or who would even really care. No one listens to me anymore. And I have no one to go to. It seems that my fears, my worries, my emotions are too much for anyone to handle. So, I guess I must pay someone else to hear them out.

I just hope they don't try to give me meds. I hate meds.

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Something has changed...
Something is new...


Not sure what it is. But it's happened. And I'm nervous.

I've been expecting this for months. Every morning and night, I'd sit there and think "Are you ready? Are you ready?..."

I am.

But I have no idea what it may be. It feels dangerous.

I found my bedroom door open. ...I found my mom's door open.
Her portrait was on the ground... It fell.
It felt as though a pressence had been in there...



The storm has finally arrived.

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