I melt the hearts of psychologists.

I saw Cathy yesterday, my lovely psychobabble extraordinaire. No, no, I shouldn’t say that. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. We spoke mostly about mum, and this lack of routine I have in my life. See, whereas before-
Oh fuck I can’t do this while eating, lemme finish cocopops.
Okay, where was I?
Well, whereas before I relied upon mum and Alistair to give me some semblance of structure. They would go to work, I would be at home alone for x amount of hours, they’d come home, there would be dinner. I also relied on my friends’ lives to keep me on track. Now that neither mum or Alistair are working, we’re just in this limbo. Floating. And school’s out, and Eddy and Brittany hang out here at all hours of the night. Speaking of, Kitten is asleep in the bar right now. I woke up next to him after we fell asleep watching shitty 3AM TV last night and just watching him, as much as I love him, it’s not the way I used to, and a part of me doubts I ever will feel that way for him again. In its absence, there is just this immense sadness, and grief for what we had and I fucked up.
Speaking of, there’s so much Ben doesn’t know. Know the details of. I’m scared to tell him. I know he’ll see this and will grill me, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
And again, in a similar vein, I still haven’t replied to Owen. I should, but I don’t know what to say. When you hate someone for so long, you inadvertently objectify them. When I seldom saw him, I could focus all my malcontent at him, and he became this focal point for all my shame, regret and grief for everyone affected, my life, Eddy’s life, our friendship and even for our fleeting… well, could you call it romance? My last hurrah. My flailing before being swallowed by the quicksand. Turns out, that flailing was enough to attract necessary attention to be saved, and I was pulled from the sand, only to be discarded, left cold, dirty and alone. It’s my fault for getting myself in a rut, maybe. And Eddy and I still have our fucking terrible co-dependent fuck-up, and it never stops. We can be lovers, we can be friends. He won’t stop loving me, and I don’t think I can ever love him like that again.
But since emailing Owen, with this offer of compromise, and that that semi-literate fuck took the time to speak coherently, and be rational and reasonable and retrospectively sombre and fucking sincerely sorry, it’s so hard to hate him. We fucked up so many aspects of each other’s lives with our indiscretions. Infidelity. Because I was trapped. Snowed-in. Alone.
Now that he’s a human being again, over a year since all this shit started, I don’t know if I can. The thought of him can still send me down in spirals, into tears. The sight still sends me into a panic attack. I hyperventilate. I cry. I mourn, and I still crave his approval. It’s fucked up. So, so beyond fucked.


Jesus Christ it’s cold. It’s peak hour, in Darwin, and given yes it is the Dry Season and I’m not in the sun but WHAT THE FUCK. This makes no sense.

Uhh uh, back to Cathy.
So yeah. She even cried a little. I bawled. I hate that.
She alluded that she may have lost her mother to breast cancer when she was 18.
Fucking hell, I hate being so fragile. I hate feeling helpless.

You know the way angry felines pace in cages? I feel like that.
Inside, I am just frustrated, angry, and so full of this raging, screaming, helpless grief. Trapped by circumstance. I lash out. The other day, when I was making something for dinner (something to eat while we watched The Spirit; snazzy film, screamed Darcy, though. The cheesiness, gallantry, whatnot. I rolled my eyes and felt a little pang) and I can’t remember, something wouldn’t do what I wanted and there was just this rising ire and exasperation, and I just have this twitch and I tense my fingers and move with no control and I just bit my arm. I drew blood. Then, in its wake, I just felt this emptiness and melancholy. I don’t know why. I just get so blind, I have to be violent for a second. It take so little to set me off. I have a fit and I need to do something. I’ve nearly tried to strangle Eddy, just when I need something, I bite, I claw, I cut myself. Just so much anger. At what, I don’t know.

Oh god emo.

<3