I'm Not Thrilled About This
The Boy had a show at 7th St Entry. First show with his new band so I got myself ready and parked my car in a ramp and walked up to the ticket box. I told them that I would be on the guest list and while they searched I saw a sign that noted that his band had already played... Then I was informed that I wasn't on the guest list.
I left quickly before the tears hit my cheeks and it's ever so much fun to be downtown in a crowd of smokers, standing at a street light weeping. But it got worse.
I made it back to my car assuming that the Boy couldn't give a shit about me because he hadn't called or listed me. I went home and had a giant pity fest. I flipped my lid and kept it good and flipped until about 7:30 this morning where we end our story with me at the Boy's house crying.
I didn't feel like I had anywhere else to go but he was honestly the last person that I wanted helping me which made me cry harder.
I know that I can work circumstances to make me feel significantly shittier than I should. I know that I do this too often. I just don't know how to keep myself from losing it completely because it's happening far too often.
There are now scratches on my leg that I'm going to blame on the kitty but that were actually inflicted by a dull steak knife. This has got to stop.
This morning I called a suicide help line though I was sobbing too much to breathe, let alone talk. They didn't know what to do with me. I called two and both had the same response. I'm glad that I didn't actually have my hand on a trigger although I guess that in a way, I do.
I'm ashamed. How long is this going to go on? How long will I meet every obstacle with a full blown freak out. When I lived at home and had to keep up face for my family this never happened. NEVER. Now it's a regular occurence and getting more and more frequent.
I'm really getting sick of myself.
