I feel betrayed by my body. I feel as though I don't know who's it is anymore. This isn't mine. It can't be. My body wouldn't do things like this to me.
I mean, sure I abuse it, but no more than anyone else really.
So what is the deal? How did it come to this? Why has it decided that functioning in a normal way is no longer it's bag? And why do I have to deal with it? Shouldn't I just be going out and getting drunk and messed up like everyone else? Not obsessing about things that are WAY beyond my understanding.
Not only that, but why do I have to try and make people feel better? When I was in hospital, I felt like that was my job - to ensure everyone else was ok. That they didn't think it was a big deal.
It was and still is a big deal. For me at least.
I know, I know. Poor Iris. Life is so hard.
Well sometimes it is.
And I feel like the one person I was able to lean on, able to confide in, able to talk to in an honest way, without judgement or fear that they may walk out, has done just that, walked out.
On top of all of that, I am stuck in a city where I don't really trust anyone. At least not in the same way I trust the people who have been there since day one. People who's doorstep I can show up on with no questions asked, with them just offering a couch and an ear.
There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.
Nope, still here. That sucks.
If I could erase last year, I would. Fully, completely, gone. No thoughts of it, no recollection. Just wiped out.
I would be ok with that. I would even give up the good shit to have last year not happen.
Anyone got a Delorean?