But I can't articulate, I can't get all my thoughts out, because I'm not supposed to!

I'm not supposed to.

I keep lying and lying and lying to myself and that just makes the way I cope worse than it was in the first place.

I mean, it's not like I'm even coping at all! Every day is the same shitty ideation, always having some kind of content thrown into my thoughts so I don't have a chance of thinking.

I already figured out the truth, my truth, the good sole truth of it all even, but I said it wasn't enough. The truth of my situation isn't enough and it'll never be enough but the truth of it all is what pushes me to the edge.

Nope! Nope, no, no, I'm not allowed to think about that because I'll remember there's nothing left, I'll remember the crushing-weight agony of my pitiful life, and I made a deal already so there's no point in pushing further.

It can't be that bad, right? But I guess I'm only saying that because I'm not letting myself remember. So I'm glad I don't have to push further.

I remember what happened last time. The way they looked at me. The spilled out crystals on the bus. I remember seeing the camera, I remember crying seeing my dog again, I remember the cops asking me what was so wrong. I remembered that moment when my sister finally gave up on me, when Walker finally convinced her. I remember getting to the door, and he said "Please, just don't run away."

All because I figured out the answer. The shitty answer. After searching for so long.

And I'm glad that I keep questioning this mundane loop that is my life. I'm glad, in a really horrible glad way, that I shoved it all down. I'll keep existing in my misery, I'll keep looking for things that fulfill me, I'll keep checking off each half-baked imperfect task off my ever-growing list of ideas, I'll keep trying. I'll keep trying.

I know I'll have to remember one day. It's kind of inevitable. Cards just aren't in my favor, right?

And so that's inevitable too, right?

I don't want to be negative all the time. But I just can't put my head on straight anymore. I can't trace back where this started, I can't try to digest this, the jumbled, tangled yarn ball in my head. 

And I'm glad that's so.