i don't even bother

I really don't want to go to therapy this week.

Why?

...I have to have a reason?

Most people do.

Here is my reason, then:

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. She can be counted on to reminisce, and the last few months I've been more than uncomfortable with hearing her memories. I don't know who that child was, who spoke to everyone with such joy, such trusting drive to love everyone. I have spent the last two decades turning myself into an introvert, so that was not me, and it was me, therefore it must have a seam somewhere, a crack patched up with tar and feathers and I would rather just leave it alone.

Stop prodding me, examining me, expecting me to lie on the table and hold my breath, hold still, while a stethoscope prods or a machine whirs or there is pain. Stop looking for the break. If it is there, if the scar has not faded from being kept out of direct sunlight, I want to keep it hidden for a little bit, because it deserves that much.

If there is madness inside me, if there is depression and anger and hatred and angst, let it fester. Let it rot, or let it grow, or let it stagnate. Let it be a parasite, or a fetus, or a disease eating me from the inside out. Let my crazy consume the world, an amoeba I will vomit up in harsh words and emotional outbursts, until it destroys everything, an unforeseen circumstance to everyone but me, who will find it inevitable.

I am tired, and I want to rest if it kills me. Let it be.

[silence]

Not forever. Just for now.

A compromise is when no one is happy.