Home.
Posted February 20th 2012 at 06:42 PM by LlamaLlamaDuck
Updated May 21st 2012 at 09:17 PM by LlamaLlamaDuck
Updated May 21st 2012 at 09:17 PM by LlamaLlamaDuck
Finally back home after a long, boring, painful, and exhausting ride home. Had to walk a stupidly long route just get out of the bloody station and into town because the government have decided to close all the roads and paths into the station and dig up the road and keep it closed for 50 weeks. Yes, 50. I want to take whoever thought that up and bury them in one of their own pointless road holes.
Taxi on the way home going past where my papa lives (sorry, putting a d at the end of that was awkwardly difficult) and then realised that the last time I went down that road Rie was with me and I ended up crying in the back of the taxi. The driver was nice and pretended not to notice which I appreciated.
I sat with my parents for ten minutes while I had a quick sandwich before I went to bed and just as I was hugging mum goodnight she comes out with "Your dad and I have been busy while you were away, we've booked you an appointment with a counsellor on Wednesday morning. Okay, night!"
She asked me this morning if I was okay with going to this counsellor. Explained she'd emailed a place she'd got from someone at work explaining the circumstances and asking if I needed a referral from my GP. The man called back within an hour (on his day off, nice guy!) and said his female partner can take me at 9.15 Wednesday morning. She also says she's thought about taking everyone for a family therapy session because they're all worried about me and don't know how to help. Making me feel like I'm nuts by telling me how impossible it is for my thoughts to be true would help. Ever since I can remember I've always known. It's just always been a natural thing. The same way the sun goes down and the moon comes up, I've always known that people are constantly watching me. Listening to what I'm thinking. I've always kept an eye out for cameras and still feel like I'm being watched from my wardrobe.
Come to think of it, it's a mirror thing. I always check the bathroom cabinet for cameras and there's a mirror on that, I don't feel safe in the living room since it was done up and there's a mirror facing the couch in there now, my wardrobe doors have big mirrors on. At least that's at home. Once I'm outside it can be anyone anywhere. I only feel safe with certain people and I haven't seen any of my friends for months for that reason. That and I'm scared of being invited over and not being able to get out of it.
While I was thinking about the mirrors I remembered writing a poem when I was around 13/14 and going through my "freaky writing" phase. It was about mirror people who watch us and wait until we're at our most vulnerable before they get us. (They're evil. ) It was just meant to be a scary thing at the time. But maybe I'm just overthinking it.
I'm supposed to be honest with this woman. Even if I'm having a good day. I don't see how I can. I haven't been fully honest about all this crap with anyone. Not even the people I trust. While I know it's all real, to me anyway, it just feels insignificant. Like I'm exaggerating or looking for attention.Even though I know I'm not and attention is the last thing I want. It's all so confusing and it's easier to just ignore it all and act like it doesn't exist. I don't want to cut. I never think about pills. I don't want to take all of those laxative things at once. I sleep fine and never have nightmares. I don't spend nights crying and wishing I was dead. I don't hate myself so much I wish I could destroy every part I don't like. I'm happy and normal and everything is fine. And as long as everything is fine there is nothing to be concerned about and no reason for anyone to worry.
I wish.
Taxi on the way home going past where my papa lives (sorry, putting a d at the end of that was awkwardly difficult) and then realised that the last time I went down that road Rie was with me and I ended up crying in the back of the taxi. The driver was nice and pretended not to notice which I appreciated.
I sat with my parents for ten minutes while I had a quick sandwich before I went to bed and just as I was hugging mum goodnight she comes out with "Your dad and I have been busy while you were away, we've booked you an appointment with a counsellor on Wednesday morning. Okay, night!"
She asked me this morning if I was okay with going to this counsellor. Explained she'd emailed a place she'd got from someone at work explaining the circumstances and asking if I needed a referral from my GP. The man called back within an hour (on his day off, nice guy!) and said his female partner can take me at 9.15 Wednesday morning. She also says she's thought about taking everyone for a family therapy session because they're all worried about me and don't know how to help. Making me feel like I'm nuts by telling me how impossible it is for my thoughts to be true would help. Ever since I can remember I've always known. It's just always been a natural thing. The same way the sun goes down and the moon comes up, I've always known that people are constantly watching me. Listening to what I'm thinking. I've always kept an eye out for cameras and still feel like I'm being watched from my wardrobe.
Come to think of it, it's a mirror thing. I always check the bathroom cabinet for cameras and there's a mirror on that, I don't feel safe in the living room since it was done up and there's a mirror facing the couch in there now, my wardrobe doors have big mirrors on. At least that's at home. Once I'm outside it can be anyone anywhere. I only feel safe with certain people and I haven't seen any of my friends for months for that reason. That and I'm scared of being invited over and not being able to get out of it.
While I was thinking about the mirrors I remembered writing a poem when I was around 13/14 and going through my "freaky writing" phase. It was about mirror people who watch us and wait until we're at our most vulnerable before they get us. (They're evil. ) It was just meant to be a scary thing at the time. But maybe I'm just overthinking it.
I'm supposed to be honest with this woman. Even if I'm having a good day. I don't see how I can. I haven't been fully honest about all this crap with anyone. Not even the people I trust. While I know it's all real, to me anyway, it just feels insignificant. Like I'm exaggerating or looking for attention.Even though I know I'm not and attention is the last thing I want. It's all so confusing and it's easier to just ignore it all and act like it doesn't exist. I don't want to cut. I never think about pills. I don't want to take all of those laxative things at once. I sleep fine and never have nightmares. I don't spend nights crying and wishing I was dead. I don't hate myself so much I wish I could destroy every part I don't like. I'm happy and normal and everything is fine. And as long as everything is fine there is nothing to be concerned about and no reason for anyone to worry.
I wish.
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Posted February 21st 2012 at 04:44 AM by Storyteller.