So last night was a terrible night for me. I did something I promised myself I will never do again.
I found comfort in alcohol instead of working through it. Today, I feel weak and backboneless if that is even a word. I can’t focus. I keep playing yesterday’s sequences of events back in my head.
As much as I try to re-integrate myself back into my family, there are certain members of the clan that can always set me off. I thought I had prepared myself well enough for yesterday’s showdown. But I guess I didn’t.
It took all my willpower and self-restraint not to create a scene but every thing ate at me inside. I felt like I was completely powerless in that situation. I didn’t know what else to do.
I’m tired of trying to sort myself out after incidents like this. This wallowing for days after is not a good thing either. But it is no use telling myself to snap out of it. Somehow it doesn’t work that way. On other days, I seem to be the epitome of happiness. That no one can believe I am scarred and hurt inside. Yet it is days like this, where I hole myself up to not let anyone see me.
Why am I so afraid to let people know how I really feel? How much I am hurting inside? How much I need that shoulder to cry on, or that support to lean upon? So many see me as their shoulder, support and everything in between. When is it my turn?