Monday, January 30, 2006 // 1:24 AM

anger

and i didn't know how to tell you last now that i have not gotten over all those things. memories, childhood memories that i have blocked out, i know, you've dragged them back up to the surface again, and. and i didn't know how to tell you that i didn't, don't, feel like laughing, at all. that it hurt, that it still hurts, that i only laugh because i don't want to face it i don't want to face it i don't want to face it. another reason why i don't Share My Problems with anyone at all, i'm just afraid that you will ask me all the right questions. i am terrified of facing it. and as a result i carry it around, an unrecognizable excess baggage, even more frustrating, even more damaging, for my refusal to acknowledge its being there. i would hate to admit it, you know i would hate to admit to trauma, because it sounds just too much like the culture of victimhood and you know what i really really really am sick of being the screwed up one. i really am sick of being different, of being victimised, of being weak. i am sick of being poison. i am sick of being hurt, i am sick of being freaking traumatised. it's the same old garden path and i'm sick of it i really am, i'm stuck here once again and i don't want to need therapy i don't want to be forced to look things in the eye. because i want to be so called strong and i want to be so called perfect and i want to be so called normal, i don't want to need anything to function i don't want to be a needy fucking female. do you have any idea how sick i am of being the one with all the fucking issues, with all the physical and emotional and psychological scars? of being a Screwed Up girl with problems no one can solve?