I think I'm going to mail myself to Australia.
Read the book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day. That's me today.
I am so damned tired. I am tired of being there for everyone. I am tired of giving and giving and giving. And I'm tired of expecting myself to give and not ask for anything in return. I'm tired of thinking that I have to be so damned strong that I can't reach out to take what is offered.
And now I'm tired, thinking of the work that I have to do to fix the damage that I have caused because I'm tired of giving and not acknowledging that I need anything in return. A small part of me wants to scratch the friendships that have been damaged by my pride and my issues. The logical part of me knows that isn't a good idea.
I just want to crawl under my bed. But I don't fit under the bed. I want to ignore people. But that's not an option. I want to not talk to anyone. But that's not happening. I want to stop crying. That I can do. I want to not have any needs or wants or expectations. But my therapist says that is unreasonable.
I'm done. Just so done. Stick a fork in me. I'm ready to go out and scream somewhere. I'm ready to just hop in my car and drive til it's out of gas. I think I'll go west.