Saturday, March 31, 2018


"Stop talking about your childhood," he said. He was right, I shouldn't have been. I told him I was proud that he was a better kid than me but added "but then you had better parents" because I pride myself I am in no way like the pair who made me self-hate from his age on.

He walked off down the corridor after saying it and I had a deep anxiety attack where I cried and struggled to articulate because I was ripped to the core. He was right. I should stop talking about my childhood. Because all it does is make me sad and people around me are weary of it.

thewife had to talk normally at me for about five minutes until I could stop crying and interact like a normal person. Then it fired again and I escaped to shed to bleed out here.

"Stop talking about your childhood" is sage advice from a younger me. I'll try. But my anger is so deep at what happened to me that it's hard to see the sun from the bottom of the hole.

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