Day Twelve – Stream of Consciousness

hawmc2013Stream of Consciousness Day. Start the sentence “______” just write, don’t stop, don’t edit. POST!

I am a little angry right now.

No, scratch that, I am frustrated and so incredibly annoyed.

I feel as if the worst of me is coming out of late. I have nothing to blame for it either. Well, I do. But that seems ridiciolous. I feel as if I am Mrs Nasty without a good thing to say, nothing can come out of my mouth that is plesant or isn’t dripping in sarcasm.

I know that it is my way of coping with things, but really? Do I need to be horrible? Do I need to say or even think, these horrible things? Do I need to tell someone to care about me when it is clear to everyone that they dont? Why am I trying? Why even bother? I have no solid answer. No good answer, no good response to that. I want to get mad, to say things I wish I could actually just say and then walk away and not look back. But I can’t do that. I don’t want to be mean. I don’t want to not look back. I don’t want to walk away, really, if I’m being honest.

I had a little experiment last night. Every time I thought of something that upset me, made me angry, that gave me the tiniest little bit of stress, I got a gut rumble. Connection? STRESS MAKES ME FLARE. I know this! I fucking know it. And you know what I do?! I STRESS OUT. About stupid things. I want to change my life, all of it somedays, and I constantly think about it. Things that I can not control. Things that are beyond my grasp and beyond my relem of counsciousness. I can not affect them and those are the things that give my guts the worst problems. The unfixable things! The uncontrolable things!

So you know who I am mad at the most? Myself.

Because I just can’t accept things the way they are. I can not accept that this is how my life is now. I can not accept the fact that I can ‘use’ my condition to get things, to use it as an excuse to say all the bad things I would never say. I can even blame Daphne! I can use it to my advantage. Is it really to my advantage? Is the fact my guts act up a sign that I have guilt in doing such a thing? That it affects me more than anyone will ever know or see? Who knows.

Have fun with that one, counsellor.

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