Monday, November 24, 2014

Self Directed Therapy

I'm an introvert. I cry at movies, and I act goofy around people, but when it comes to true emotions? I shut it down tight. I am terrible with confrontation - I'll cry before I'll fight back. If I'm upset, I don't want a hug, thank you very much, that only makes things worse.

I have a friend going through some really shitty stuff. Like in the grand scheme of shitty, her stuff is near the top. And she's far away and I'm here and I'm too broke to do much about it. And even if I do go... what is there to do? It's not the type of shitty stuff I can fix.

It's interesting, though, to me... if I step out of my head long enough to examine my thoughts which I do with frightening frequency. Does that suggest psychosis? It's interesting that when I'm stressed out about stuff, I rhyme of lines of literature in my head. Not 'real' literature that's been written, nothing soothing like Shakespeare or Maya Angelou. It's my own crap that's not worth putting down... but it's like I'm processing the emotions - mine and those of the people around me - through a literary description, through a line of prose, as if I have to compose it to understand it.

So I've had lots of voices whispering to me this week... none of them productive and many of them painful. This is the kind of stuff I wish nobody had to write about. least of all my friend


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