a broken heart can't be that bad
Friday, July 7th, 2006 02:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erikaI find it hard to sleep.
It's even harder to stay awake.
Every time I close my eyes, I think of everything that went wrong, that's gone wrong, that's going wrong.
All my mistakes line up to tap me on the shoulder and have a chat.
I am such a dumb ass for thinking I could actually be friends with someoneI'm I was in love with and to be honest part of me just wants to nuke the whole goddamn affair and pretend none of it ever happened, because it hurts so bad right now that she can't even give me the scrap of being friends, which was her goddamn idea in the first place.
I'm in debt and I can't find a job, I can't find a job because no one will hire me, no one will hire me because I'm a horrible person, et cetera, et cetera.
This is why I don't answer when people ask me how I am: I bore myself.
I don't do much with my time.
Sometimes I go with my mother to the video rental place. We get movies—four or eight or six or five or seven, somewhere in that area—and half the time I don't get to watch the ones I actually want to.
Once a week, I leave the house and go to therapy. I stop by the library on the way there, get books—fifteen or so.
I talk to my therapist but I don't say anything, I ramble. I have nothing important to discuss, really.
Here we are, back at stage one, I'm tired, you take it from here. You know the way. I'll be pretending to sleep, forgetting to take my pills, crying. Very busy schedule.
It's even harder to stay awake.
Every time I close my eyes, I think of everything that went wrong, that's gone wrong, that's going wrong.
All my mistakes line up to tap me on the shoulder and have a chat.
I am such a dumb ass for thinking I could actually be friends with someone
I'm in debt and I can't find a job, I can't find a job because no one will hire me, no one will hire me because I'm a horrible person, et cetera, et cetera.
This is why I don't answer when people ask me how I am: I bore myself.
I don't do much with my time.
Sometimes I go with my mother to the video rental place. We get movies—four or eight or six or five or seven, somewhere in that area—and half the time I don't get to watch the ones I actually want to.
Once a week, I leave the house and go to therapy. I stop by the library on the way there, get books—fifteen or so.
I talk to my therapist but I don't say anything, I ramble. I have nothing important to discuss, really.
Here we are, back at stage one, I'm tired, you take it from here. You know the way. I'll be pretending to sleep, forgetting to take my pills, crying. Very busy schedule.
