"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here...."

I'm back again.

I keep hoping that one day I will be able to come here and look back at what I have been through...and feel like I've come so far. That day is not today.

I have no fucking clue what I am doing.

So, what else is new?

Still in school. The light at the end of the tunnel....for a while, wasn't a train....and now I'm not so sure...I will still have to find a job, pass licensure, find a supervisor, get about 3,000 hours....so it's not a train...there is no light. Just a long dark tunnel and me without a spark to light my way.

Still seeing a therapist. Though, at this point it's just a matter of going through the motions. In case the powers that be find out my dirty little secrets, I can at least appease them and saying I'm doing everything I can. No insurance. Seeing a provisionally licensed guy for free. I would really like to trust him, but he's a former classmate, so....that's just too complicated.

He's solution focused. Not really effective with what I am dealing with. He doesn't seem to get that what I do, as dysfunctional as it may be, keeps me alive. It keeps the darkness at bay; my mind from shattering.

I wish I even knew how to make him understand. Wish I could allow him to feel what I feel. But I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I don't really understand why I am the way I am. I guess if I knew, then I could stop. Then I wouldn't be so screwed up.

I feel like I'm falling apart; barely keeping my shit together, and I can't tell him that. I don't know how he will react. How he will judge and what the consequences would be. It's gotten harder to not fuzz out. When I'm alone, it's like I'm not here. I space. I can't stay. It's getting harder not to do that in public. Kind of like when you're driving somewhere and come to the sudden realization that you don't remember driving the past 20 miles. Dissociation. Here, but not. Defense mechanism. Self-preservation, yet not functional. Abnormal. Crazy.

My coping method used to stop it. Helped me focus. Their effects wear off quickly. The internal dialogue is torturous. Tormenting.

Got back with the ex for about 6 months. We tried to make a little brother or sister for our kiddo. Miscarried in December. Had to go through that alone because the ex's dad went into a coma about the same time I found out I was preggers, and then died the same day I started miscarrying. I wish I'd died.

I'm finding my existence more and more unnecessary. I find fewer reason to keep up the farce.