Here be dragons…

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I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok. I am not ok.

Rage. Fear. Confusion. Frustration.

I was trying to work on my anxiety related to my social insecurities, slipped and fell head first into my deepest fears and the child abuse monster broke out of its box and now I can’t put it back in.

Rage. So much rage. But tired. So tired. So overwhelmed. I just can’t get my head above water.

I need to hide. I need to hide because I am certain I will make a huge ass out of myself if I allow all of this to bubble up to the surface. I’m afraid of being judged and rejected for being to broken, too messed up. I feel… that’s all I do anymore… feel. I’m afraid. The fear is like a physical thing; it hurts, stabs, twists and rips me apart.

I’m too afraid to even write the words here. Afraid that the words will brand me as a complete and total cosmic fuck up, a loser, a basket case.

Broken.

I want to reach out.

I’m too afraid.

I don’t want to crawl away and hide. I don’t want to be alone, lonely and to feel abandoned. But the fear is too intense. If I don’t hide, I will end up exposing myself. And if I expose myself, if I let even a crack show, I will fall apart and never be able to put myself back together. And I don’t want to fall apart and end up in the hospital again.

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