It kind of sucks cause I’m like 31 and in my intoxicated state I realize “I’m just like them”. I look down at my arm and my scars are all faded and on days where I’m not intoxicated I look down and feel a tad bit low knowing that everything is healed and that I’m “healed” ✨ whatever that’s means. Something that they say a lot.
My therapist says “you see yourself in them” and I really do. I may be the only one at work who truly understands their fucked up mindset and how it’s not so “fucked up”.
It’s crazy being off work this long and I cannot wait to return. It’s crazier how neatly all this was typed 3 margaritas deep 🙃😎.
When Sylvia Plath said, “there’s a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get.”
Like ever since my last therapy session where we talked about her and she asked if I was trying to avoid something because I’m picking up so many extra shifts at work.. ever since I spent most of the session complaining.. or actually I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t complaining maybe it was just realizing that I made a mistake and that I’m a fucking idiot for doing that.
Ever since then it’s like there’s this resentment and I feel so bad, so guilty…? Every little thing she does annoys me. And just now I flipped. Said I’m done and I don’t want to be with you. Like I’m just so done.
I don’t want to be at home. I don’t want to be with her. I just want to be at work where I’m appreciated, feel like I’m making a difference and doing something that brings me joy.
I hate my fucking life. I hate my living situation. I hate my partner. I hate that I settle. I hate that I feel bad. I hate that I second guess myself. I fucking hate everything except for my job. My job is the only good in my life. That and my cats.
