22.00.12.06.2007
Da, am fost probleme când am scriut-o.
Terror.
Feeling like a coward. Feeling guilty for feeling like a coward. Knowing it's not my fault I'm terrified, but still feeling like a coward.
Wondering how I will ever get out of this downward spiral of terror. Despairing because I know in my heart that I never can, I'll never be normal, I'll always have this horrible problem1 sitting on my shoulders like a lead weight, holding me down, not letting me spread my wings and take off.
Shame.
Trying not to cry.
Trying not to blame myself for what is happening to me. Knowing that it's more my fault than anyone else's. Wondering how I could have let this happen. Hating myself for it.
Trying not to show anyone else that I am crying.
Embarrassment.
Wondering why it had to happen to me. Feeling guilty because I would shove this problem off on someone else.
Falling deeper into despair by the second.
And . . . planning what the note2 will say.
This is what it's like.