Handle with Care.
(One of those emotional fucking posts that are just stupid and irrelevant to your life.)
Brushing things off for me is easier than it is for most people. It’s not that big of a deal to just sweep my thoughts under the rug and throw the skeletons in my closet for no one to see. No sweat. And for awhile, I’ll believe that it’s gone. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But there is only so much space under that rug and so much room in the closet.
I’m starting to learn that it’s not a good thing to just shrug it off. And, I feel like I’m drowning in my own thoughts. I used to be the most judgmental, irrational bitch ever. So, I just numbed myself. Because if I didn’t feel them, I wouldn’t think them and if I didn’t think them, I wouldn’t be so damn angry. I want to get things off my chest now, though. I want to get everything off my chest. But, I don’t know where to start. And, I don’t want to dump my life onto someone else’s cause it’s not anyone’s problem but my own. Besides, I’m terrible. It’s terrible how truly terrible I am.
As much as I hate to admit it, I am pretty unstable.
