HelpJanuary 28, 2015I mentioned my therapy appointment today.Grandma - "What about the anger?"Mom never fails to ask "Did they say anything about your moods?"Boyfriend - "You get mad over the smallest things so quickly."My sisters and father are the only ones who don't mention such.I'm feeling hopless and worthless. I don't see what they see, besides my boyfriends comment, that I can see.I have been called mean my whole life. It is hard to live around people who think of the past me, the me that *was* "mean" to my sisters. I'm not her anymore. I am sensitive and react defensively. I wish they knew the difference between acting and reacting, the idiots.The mental pain and fucked up self-image of myself they have personally carved over and over into the deepest depths of my psyche is an inexcusable eternal hell.Help.
FireI don't like to burn my bridgesBut I'd rather keep my distanceFrom you on the other side
Please Leave, and Never Come BackTormented, tortured, stalked, haunted.These are a few words that I would describe how I feel in my dreams at night.When I am in another state, another world and vulnerable to the subconscious mind that does as it pleases and all you can do is watch, feel, do whatever it wants you to.I wake with a start, a gasp. My eyes fling wide open and I sternly, accidentally talk out loud, in my waking state, to the tormentor in my dreams; "But that's how it feels!", a response I make to her when she says "I don't hate you."My heart breaks again, I hold the tears back, I silently repeat the phrase that's supposed to bring consolation. The only phrase I've used for all the years she has visited me - "It's just a dream, it's just a dream." My heart still beats irregularly fast. I try to calm down. I feel pity towards myself.My mother never specifically did the things in the waking world that she does in my dreams. She haunts me and hurts me in those dreams. She is relentless. She pries an
DeathTick, tick...Tick, tick...Time's up.
GhostHear your voice.A shadow.Run.
WishMore enthusiasmFor meThan games
Cue the MusicAll these shattered piecesA picture of my old pastMy heart has grown so small sinceAlthough I wish it hasn't--------You're playing with my heart stringsYou're playing with my heart stringsAnd the way that you playCan bring about a love or hateWhat will be your next strumWhen will you be all doneI don't know if you know thisBut at nightI'm haunted by your musicPlaying with my heart stringsStrumming on my heart strings--------And all the whileMy heart still beatsTo a beating ofIts own themeI know it's not that easyTo beatTo the rhythm of your own drumI know it's not that easyTo keepWhile someone else is strummingAnd I just want to be freeFrom the music of the old meThe rhythm of the old meI just want to be freeFrom the strumming of the old me--------You're taking all my heart strengthYou're taking all my heart strengthI found out it's not easyTo beatTo the rhythm of your new 'me'The rhythm of your new 'me'--------How far can I singWe'll seeI'll m