Jul. 3rd, 2018

justleftoftwisted: (struggling)
....and end up in Flagstaff, Arizona, getting picked up on missing persons charge.

Nothing's changed, except my savings account is thinner than before. I feel like shit for feeling like shit that we had to spend the money to put the dog down. It's in conflict with feeling bad for putting the damn dog down. I'm still chewing the needless guilt over that - I know it's needless, she had a tumor that we couldn't save her from and the costs of medical + cleaning/supplies would quickly run up with the chemo bills. We saved her from suffering, right?

Only at the cost of part of my heart and soul, I think. Some part of me refuses to see it as other than a group murder. A willful savagery. I wonder if that makes me a bleeding heart or not.

I can't stand this stagnant existence. There aren't even any steps forward anymore, the past 2 years, it's all been steps back. I keep trying - Keep your chin up, right? Never let 'em see you sweat? Except I'm standing around playing Sisyphus with life and this hill, bleeding and sobbing into my elbows and I don't know if I'm being seen at all.

Maybe I am. Maybe I am and there's no help or comfort for me. Maybe I am and this is the way it will always be. Maybe we won't move out; maybe the house will just catch fire, or our landlords will get too old and their kids will kick us out.

Maybe one day I'll feel like a person again.

Maybe one day I won't be so distraught and lost.

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Arma

January 2019

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