Hey Diary, been a while since I said hi. Sure I mean it’s only been a few days but it feels like those were a month in my head. I broke down again, you know why. Sometimes it feels like I’m having to compete against the world, even the act of finding help becomes a comedically long arduous process of phone-tag and virtual receptionists. Didn’t hate the art I did most recently, should probably push myself to re-do the rest of my draw-a-box studies on the right paper, at least then when I catch up with myself I can tackle these depth challenges anew. It’s funny, Telepurte does the superimposed line act too, lots of people do. I remember only a few weeks ago feeling silly for doing it. Wouldn’t you know it, right as I’m writing this I finally get a call from my provider about me picking a therapist, life’s funny. Honestly today I’m kinda of in a dopamine haze, it’s soft and warm and shoegaze, maybe it’s because packages are arriving earlier, maybe it’s yesterdays art, maybe it’s just that things are nearing that head. Contacts, therapists, surgery, god knows I’m gonna go back for vocal training again because I just never like being bored…
I hope that you like me putting up the drawings, I know it’s not all of them but doing the whole thing would take forever, maybe it’d benefit me, maybe it’d benefit others. I think to me you’re like….my bed, not my current one but my dream one. When I type here it feels like me, it feels like all the marred cacophony of voices and pain goes away. Either that or said voices and pain finally get to break through the surface. I think I love him Diary, not like the others but….he just understands me and doesn’t shut me down for even my small weird things. I hope he’s happy, truly truly happy, I want to be his wife, his caretaker, I want to do the banal things he finds so useless, I want to, well, I already serve. It’s nice yknow, I can be this edgy, sharp, bombastic thing to everyone, but to him I can be fragile, esoteric, explosive.
My negative imagination often conjures up imagery of him in harm and I scream in anguish every time.
How I can’t fathom what I’d do, who I’d talk to, how I’d make it. It scares me more than I scare myself.