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A Series Of Unfortunate Mornings Repeated


Originally Uploaded
here by keirandyl
So, once again, I woke up. Today has been hard, a repeated morning of hungover again and again and again with new misfortunes and upsets every time I opened my eyes. I knew the results of my actions, knew what would happen next, knew that it was a bad idea. Yet each time this weekend I did it anyways. Maybe I'm inherently self-destructive, creating situations that are bad for me just to see what will happen. I don't think so, but sometimes I wonder.

I miss emotional stability, I haven't had it in so very long.

How long?

Years.

Two women dance around my psyche, they share the same name. One won't talk to me, and now the other one will. Spinning, reversing, like a coin of two colours. They both love me, both have said it even though at very different times. Both of their voices still tremble when they speak to me.

I hate that my emotions are the only thing that continues to upset an otherwise good life.

Well, everyone needs an Achilles heel.

Especially an Achilles.

Oh gods does this hurt, and only last night I was professing that I was truly and blissfully happy. I think that's still true, underneath the burden of the weekend, but I certainly can't feel it now. Too much: the emotional excess of a post-fight, the poisoning from gatuitous amounts of alcohol, the feeling of distance between me and the woman I love, the renewed communication between me and someone I still do.

I'm in really ugly straits right now. Work tomorrow, right after I drop off some things that don't belong to me.

I'm trying to so hard not to associate emotional closeness with pain, but I have for some time. Once again I want to rail against it, scream about the need for human contact and emotional closeness being the one thing keeping me back from happiness. But that's like railing against eating or breathing, ultimately fruitless. I suppose I'm an emotional anorexic, bitching that life would be easier if I just didn't need other people like the eating disordered complain about food.

Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: silence