Dear Silly Book,
How much stress can a person take? I consider myself as fairly strong, but I am fading. I have been fading for years. I am so sad and angry, and that converged itself into distrust. It is an exhausting way to live. I am constantly playing a role. The one that is semi happy, funny, and whip smart. But sometimes I lose it, and act in such a way, that it upsets people. The combination of angry and smart is pretty damn ferocious. I am aware of that. Every night I go to bed, and pray for some kind of higher being, whom I know does not exist, to make me stupid, someone that does not understand what is going on, and can just get trough a life not feeling any responsibility at all. I am so tired catching people lying, having their own lazy agenda, and using their illness as an excuse. I am just so incredibly tired, and too soloistic. I should let more people in, like literally in my house, and my ... mind maybe. But I can't, I don't trust anybody. I cannot hope, and I cannot dream. I don't expect anything either. I can't have that luxury.
At least my job is somewhat great. I have very happy moments there. Moments. I get to be creative, and still learn in my profession. I support and work with people with a 'backpack', like people with autism or a history of abuse. Some of them are completely honest. And for me personally, that is a good thing. Even when they say things that make no sense at all.
And so this is the end of the year, and here I am trying to make a deal with myself. Some people told me over the years that I am a fair writer, but it is very time consuming and hard on the brain. It's a bit like re-living certain events that were not pleasurable. Or exactly the opposite(!). I should highlight those things, as much as I can I guess.
I just broke up with my therapist, professionally of course, I do NOT get in that kind of trouble, believe me. And I am fairly afraid that I may have made the wrong decision. I do intend to 'shop around' for another therapist, but it is hard to find one that is really good. Like I said, I am a lot, and I realize that.
Last Friday I had a premiere of one of the productions that I worked on. I put on my heels and my glitter pants, took my dog with me (she does fantastic work within the team, supporting my co-workers), even my parents came over, it was a nice evening. But I am so critical of myself, I did not feel proud but I think I convinced everyone.
I moved a few months ago. I don't feel like creating a home. I still don't want to go outside too much. I still get really scared when the doorbell rings. Gosh I'm so broken, it keeps surprising me.
Anyway, I should write more. But I am not reliable. I want to be reliable though. I really do.