mutedtempest: (Default)
I really hate them.

I just came REALLY close to smashing my brand new laptop against the wall. I stopped at the last second and swung it away from the wall, but I hit my shoulder against the wall instead and I heard something pop. It really hurts now, lol.

I'm just really glad I didn't break my laptop. I was close, and it scared me. i thought I was done with those things. I hate them. I lose time when I have them and it's really touch and go until they're over, all i want to do is destroy stuff. The only good part is that they don;t happen very often. i think the last real one I had was more than a year ago. Sometimes I get the urge to break things but I can usually control it.

I know being worried has something to do with it, but it's no one's fault but my own. I know better than to overwhelm myself, and I let myself do it until my head was pounding. I know better than that, and I'm ashamed that i let it get that far. I have cool down techniques and ways to make them go away, but I didn't do any of them and my poor laptop almost paid the price. I love my best friend with all my heart and it hurts me that she's hurting, and it hurts more that I can't make it any better. I feel like a failure.

I did throw my phone into the wall. Luckily it's a tough little thing, so it didn't get hurt at all aside from the battery cover coming off. lol. I put it back on and it's fine.

Midnight tonight it will be my mother's birthday. Tomorrow (Tuesday, close enough lol) is 19 years since I watched her die. I don't have it in me to watch anyone else die. I can't see that again, it's too much. I can't believe it's been that long now. I was hoping I'd have made her proud of me by now. I'm sorry, mom. I couldn't do it.

My head hurts. I have to go to the cemetery either tomorrow or the day after. I keep waiting for the day when it'll get even a little bit easier. It never does. I go and I stand there and I look at her name carved into a tombstone that she hated the design of, and there's this pain that surges up like I'm going to throw it up, but I can't. it gets stuck in my throat and it hurts and I can't breathe for awhile, and even when I can, I can't voice it and it just stays there. And in 19 years not a day has gone by when it's gotten any easier. It only ever seems to get worse. It's like this phantom pain that I forget about for long periods of time, and then it just suddenly hits me and I can't move or speak until it lets go.

She'd have been 49. I have this stupid little fantasy in my head, of what it might have been like if she'd lived. I can see me buying her some kind of DVD player or something, probably a portable one because for some reason I think she'd have liked those. And she'd be totally confused as to how to work it and I'd try to explain it to her, and after about ten minutes she'd just laugh and hug me and say we should get pizza or something because she'll never understand it no matter how many times I explain it to her. And in this fantasy we're both healthy and happy and she's my best friend.

I want my mom. I'd give anything to be able to hug her just one more time. I feel so lost without her here.

I hate September.


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July 2016

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