Monday, December 5, 2011

Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head

I don't know where to start.

One of my professors called me a whore on Friday.  I raised my hand, answered the question and he said, "I guess a whore's good for more than one thing sometimes."

The whole class laughed at me.  They just laughed and laughed and I ran out of the lecture hall.

And no one believes me.  Not even my therapist.  Not even my boyfriend.  They think I'm hearing things.  I'm starting to wonder if they've ever believed me.  If anyone's ever believed me.

I've just been crying all weekend.  My Roommate keeps trying to talk to me but I don't want to talk to her.

It's not fair.  I know saying that sounds like something a brat would say, but it's true.  I just want a break.  It's like the universe or my brain or something doesn't want me to forget and just move on and be happy.

I want to be happy.  I miss being happy.  My therapist just tells me I need to try.  She says that I like being miserable, that it's so comfortable I just assume the worst out of everything rather than try to make my life easier, but it's not true.  It's not, I hate this, I hate it so much but no one will let me be happy, just be happy, just once.

I just want to be happy.  It's not too much to ask.  Just let me go on.  Just let me let go.  Please.  It was so much better when I didn't remember.

I know I never forgot, but I stopped thinking about it, and that's the same, right?  I can be happy when I'm not thinking about it.  But no one lets me stop thinking about it anymore and I can't take it.

I just can't take it.

I had a dream the other night.  I guess I've kept having it, every week or so.  I'm lying in bed and the streetlights are coming in and I can see the shadows on my wall, and then every sound in my room, every sound goes quiet, and the shadows start to whisper to me.

The tell me, "Arise, Boudica!"


It's what I named my blog after.  I just thought it sounded cool but maybe I should do what my subconscious is telling me.  Maybe  I should stop letting myself be wronged.

Maybe I should prove that these people are hurting me.

Maybe I should start hurting them back.

1 comment:

  1. Sis, you know I'll believe you no matter what you tell me. Always have, remember?

    It'll be alright, I promise. Never lose hope, right?

    Just don't do anything rash, alright? I'm afraid you'll end up hurting yourself more than anything else.

    Always here for you, sis! Call me tomorrow. Me and Daphne are worried about you.

    Remember, your family loves you and believes you, no matter what.

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