November 21, 2017 . Main Journal
Exactly one month later. My therapist has asked me twice already (for two weeks) to write in my journal. I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe as I write I realize each journal has been a living breathing chapter of my life. Each time my life changed, for better or worse, I also changed journals. About a dozen chapters sit on a shelf next to my bed. A constant reminder of how far I’ve come. This journal I’m writing in was supposed to be the happy one. Not the ending. Just the chapter where the broken girl you were routing for finds her purpose and life changes for the better. About only 1/8th of the way through this new journal, I had a set back.
On October 29th another man broke me and disrespected me in public. I took a cab home, drank beer, smoked a joint, followed by 6 cough/cold pills and countless incoherent phone calls to friends. By 3 am I woke up to a handful of paramedics calling my name and shining a flashlight in my face. They had broken my door down!
Here we go again. Thankfully I’m not hopeless this time. They released me after a couple of hours in the equivalent of the drunk-tank for crazy people. I’m not hopeless and I’m not giving up. I have things I want to do and experience. I just need to learn how to survive in such a cruel and selfish world while being such a fragile person. A fragile person who is much too blunt and honest with others.
Gotta find my emotional middle path.