| | too many things happened, one of which impacted me really badly. i couldn't deal with it because it kept popping out of nowhere, when i least expect it.
i don't like those sort of surprises.
i felt so cheated. i didn't know, neither did i want to know. why couldn't i be spared from the pain? yet, my blindfold was ripped away. i was forced to see, i was forced to come to terms with it. i was forced, regardless of my choice to remain blissfully ignorant. i had made a choice to not know.
i didn't know what to do. i have never felt that degree of hurt before. i did the only thing i know how to do. i got mad. i got so mad, no amount of consoling would suffice. i got so mad i could hardly speak, even though i knew i should. otherwise, the situation would worsen. but i couldn't utter a word.
i tried dealing with my emotions in other ways. i promise i tried. i rushed into the bathroom with a razor in hand. i looked at my wrists, unwilling to scath it. i pulled up my shorts and bared my thighs. i thought for a second, then went ahead and did it anyway. but i couldn't bring myself to impress it so hard as to hurt myself. it's just not me. i'm stronger than that. i can deal with this the right way. i didn't need anyone else to tell me that. it is all too familiar; as the very same advice i had given to others.
no amount of emotional pain could bring myself to inflict more pain, physical pain onto myself. at this point, i still couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of cutting. i guess i would never become one of them. no matter how often i think about it.
i rationalize. i'm a rationalizer. everything, can be rationalized. i can mentally coerce myself to think a certain way. to advise myself as if i were someone else.
but last night i failed. i needed to just not think about it. i went down to grab a bottle of wine. i was careful to select only the ones that i think my dad would not miss. i downed 3 glasses. although i'm pretty sure the last glass wasn't filled up as much as i had hoped.
i underestimated the wine. within 10 minutes it had its effect. the effect i wanted, but with consequences. you see, i'm never one to turn red and lose my mind. i'm an emotional drunk. i'd be aware of what i'm doing, which is why when i drink too much, i usually get real quiet and try to be brought home before depression manifested.
but last night i was home. i was in my bed. i was an emotional wreck. i started hurling. my body was rejecting all the alcohol i had so quickly consumed. it was the worst feeling in the world.
time and time again i'd convince myself that drinking to this point is not worth it because vomitting while the world is spinning with tears streaming down and hair in your face is the worst feeling in the world. i had puked so much it wasn't even red anymore. it was clear. i didn't have dinner and bile coming out of me. bile. the bitterest shit there is. produced by my own body.
perhaps to sum up the bitterness of the whole experience.
i plopped back onto bed, face down. panting. because this was no easy feat. i rationalized. and i decided, right before i blacked out, that there is no easy way out to dealing with emotions. one has to handle them straight on. no matter how difficult.
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| | Posted 7/7/2009 1:01 PM - 21 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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