Friday, November 26, 2010

I am emotionally compromised. I laugh as I say that because thinking about it being funny instead of sad helps me to deal. Truth is, I've probably always been this way. I told a friend a story a few nights ago. It wasn't a particularly thrilling tale of lust, drama or suspense. It was merely a memory... an early memory from when life was still carefree and simple. My mother didn't murder my father or anything tragic like that. It's the moment my life went from simple and carefree to worrisome and fear ridden. The day that my parents told me they were getting divorced. My father turned into a real
prick after. I guess it's why I always expect the worst is going to develop even if it's been fantastic for years. People always disappoint me, and maybe I cause it.

So, emotionally compromised. I'm too analytical and up in my own thought most times to really pay attention to what's happening. I don't know how else to be right now. There'll be no changing it until I can afford therapy... this is the best therapy I can get. So, for now... you are my therapists. I'm not paying, okay?

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