Clinging to the Page as Opposed to Ripping of the Skin

I am wondering if my livejournal was how Katie Shay knew I was losing my grip. I wonder if reading my blog gave a way for Shway to notice the knives. I know it’s why Chad gave me that song

I really should read what I write. 

It’s a classic cry for help, really. Which I feel is a tad played out….I’d like to think I had a better plan than that. 

Maybe I’m making everything up…maybe he didn’t violate consent, and I made it up. It just happened, earlier today. I was sober, but so was he. And so many things were said and unsaid today. I can’t keep everything in writing, though Lordisa knows I make a valiant effort. 

Umbrellas are fragile. Growing up in a desert did not prepare me for this budgetary fact. 

At Watermark the lightning was beautiful. Now I just see the wet pavement and hear the thunder cackle overhead. 

I’m afraid again now, sometimes at night. I started watching horror movies again last week to try and counter the images. I let Matt stay more freely being scared like this. It doesn’t stop the terrors, but I can only smoke so much. Maybe I should start adding alcohol again.

lol That is a cry for help. Please send me booze. 

If I start thinking about what I’m writing, I’ll stop writing. 

A friend of mine today told me to remember how strong she thinks I am when things get hard. I can only think about how I must have duped her somehow into thinking this…

Even now, defeated and violated, I feel like I should be making amends. Why can’t I just stay down? 

Tomorrow is going to suck. And while I can sit here and write about how awful it is, it’s my own damn fault. I walked into this with reservations, and they were well-founded. I ignored them, because I’m an idiot. I was made party to forcing someone into something they didn’t want…

I feel so dirty. 

If he moves, I lose an exquisite source of pain. Who will I allow to toss me around if we don’t interact the same way? Will I try and twist Matt into that role? I will never be able to warn that man enough…

I even told him today that sometimes I hope he moves…I said it to make an emotion known. Complete exasperation, I think. Helplessness at finding myself obligated and pressured, then the floor falls out and I’m falling into the expanse of rock. Solid limestone is the bottom, and it comes up fast and hard. My tailbone is still recovering from my last plumet. At least I don’t have as far to fall this time. But thankfully, suicide by snow is not possible tonight. If I lay down in a gutter I bet I could attempt drowning…

My head is dark, and my filter is useless. It’s time to push some limits. My few remaining boundaries are feeling left out. 

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