From all the pain on the outside — the noise, the messy rooms in this messy house, the stress, the stupid people (and the okay people doing stupid things) — because if I could escape that…
I could handle dealing with some of the pain on the inside. And there’s plenty of it, too. I just can’t get to it to even begin to think about, let alone work with it, when every moment is a constant struggle to barely cope with the external hell.
Just took sleeping pills again, different kind. Managed to stay awake through the Ambien.
Emotional equivalent of tableflip, fetal curl, cry.