Sometimes I think I have 2 different types of personality. A part of me has a strong hate for the person looking back in the mirror, and the other part of me fights to prove how special I am. I punch my legs so hard I bruise them and when I look at the bruises the other part of me comforts the pain and tells me that I shouldn't do that and that I am not that bad of a person that deserves bruises. It is almost the the fight between good and evil.
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I have been here before, a long long time ago and now I am back.Forgive me for not just saying what I want to say,even under a triple dose of antidepressants it is still raw and seeping and I am hesitant at revealing it as at least under the bandages around my heart I don,t have to look at how raw and wounded.My child was cleaved from my heart by his own actions. my child of ten,turning eleven...
theatre and I are there already. I'm having a very berry tea with crackers, cheese and cherry tomatoes and she's having a joint with some beer and we're both on really comfy recliners on thick pile carpet. we need some help with the decor if anyone is around??