2.8.13
I feel like I’m trapped in this little box, that has sharp
little pokers sticking in from the outside.
Sometimes, if I say just the wrong
word or make the slightest wrong move, I get poked or scraped or even stabbed. But
only on the inside, to my soul, to my heart.
I just want some happiness from this dark fucking box. A life outside
this fucking box.
I can compromise. I can play nice and still be quiet. I’m
not just a little trophy that you can pull out of the box when it fits your
need to show off.
But I’m so fucking sick of living in this box. I had a life before. We were happy. We may
not have had a whole lot, but we had a good life. I didn’t have a life inside a
painfully dark box. Yes, I got lonely, who doesn’t? But it wasn’t like this. I just want out.
Mental abuse is so hard to explain. …….another addict. I swore to my kids, to myself that I wouldn’t
do this again. But …..
I didn’t start out like this. The box didn’t even exist. Well,
not like this it didn’t. I knew it was there. Shiny, bright, big, inviting. Not
at all like it’s turned into. It wasn’t painful at first. It was welcoming. Warm.
A comfort.
I don’t see my friends anymore. I don’t go out anymore.
Hell, I barely see my folks anymore. This box contains my whole life. My whole
being. To others, it just sits there, shiny and bright for all to look at. Everything
looks so happy and fucking perfect. It’s NOT THAT!! It’s anything but.
I made a mistake. But I have no way to fix it anymore. All my
routes out have been removed. My back road has disappeared. I’m stuck in this fucking box. I’m going to die in a fucking box. Please cremate
me so my spirit won’t have to go on forever in another fucking box…..
You are an amazing woman, your individuality is attractive, your fun and flirtatious side is so amazing to watch. People just gravitate towards you, you have blown a hole into this box of which you speak, it's up to you to tear it down. You have the power to do it, you just need to remember that.
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