I want to rid away the old memories of what my life was like and watch them disappear, but simultaneously I want my scars as visual reminders not to make the same mistakes. Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it, or so say philosophers. I just want to get back to the way things were before I relied on pain as a physical fix for my problems, before I stopped being the sweet little girl and became the moody teenager.
These days anything can trigger me, whether it be harsh words from my stepmother or even watching a movie where everyone lives “happily ever after” and thinking why can’t that be me? I just want to run until I collapse or scream until my lungs give out. I feel so uncomfortable, squirmy inside my own skin that I want to run from myself, but I’m something I can’t escape from however hard I try.
It’s the worst at night when no one’s awake and I can’t talk to anyone to distract myself from this antsy, anxious feeling. It’s after 1 am, and I’m totally wired, my mind thinking hundreds of different thoughts and just longing to do something, anything to distract itself from thinking about the one thing I subconsciously want. If my parents find out how I’m feeling, I’ll be back to seeing my therapist Wayne with his ugly cheap dress-shirts and his I’m-so-hip teen slang. Ugh, not a particularly appealing idea. So I’m trying to get a grip, it’s just really hard sometimes.