Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone …Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home

I’ve referenced this song before. Hate Me by Blue October.  Those lines –

Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home

Sometimes, often after a therapy session I have this storm in my head.  Where all the parts of the committee of chaos get together and have a town hall screaming match.  The focus is laser on the convos in my head and everything real around me dulls and recedes,  I tried to capture it tonight.  I used my dictation software that I use for my job to say out loud what I was hearing as it was playing out in front of me.  I know I edited some things – chose what to repeat and what to ‘forget” but I got a lot of it.  I left the pronouns alone, the sentence fragments.  Transcribed only the words.  Tried not to do a second edit as much as possible.  I think I got it.  A lot of it.  References to Coyle and Petal are from a book I’m reading – the shipping news.  Maybe more on that later.

After the jump.  For our protection.

I got really scared tonight when I left your office – I saw that you’re working with a teenager. I didn’t know that. I didn’t know that you worked with kids. When I saw her I wanted to grab her and run as fast as I could. I knew you were going to hurt her. You looked dangerous in that moment. They were screaming in my head to go, run, grab her and get the hell out. Urgent like. Panicky like the building was under fire. Five seconds. Standing in the hallway with my hand on the door knob. Go back and get her, run. Don’t run. She’s fine. You’re fine. He’s fine. It’s not her it’s you. The smart one, the therapisty one explained it. It’s not the girl, I’m the girl. They protect her from you. They don’t want you to know the truth. But you know the truth. We told you the truth. I told you the truth or they told you the truth but you know the truth so why so scary?? I’m angry that I know this stuff, that I know about all these parts and that they’re there and I can’t do anything about it and I can’t control it and I can’t control the way I think or the things I hear or say to myself. I’m constantly taking a consensus or convincing myself of something. I am mad that I don’t know who or what’s gonna show up and have control over my day and I hate that it was probably always like this but now I know the difference. It’s les tolerable and I hate that I can’t turn it on and I can’t turn it off when it’s helpful. I hate that I know that someday you’re going to retire and might not have finished fixing me yet and right now I don’t feel better I feel worse and you should’ve just left the damn lid on and let me be fine. You made me want to feel happy and I am mad that I don’t know if I can be. I hate that I told you so much and I’m still so scared. What am I scared of? Why do you want to send this email to him? Do you want more of his time? That was a bullshit move getting all angry at the end of the session. Are you testing him? Are YOU being passive aggressive? If you want to say something have the balls to say it Ultimately I hate (husband). I hate him because he stays with me. I hate him because I am mean and horrible to him and he puts up with it and he stays and he doesn’t even think to leave. He is Coyle. He is my father. And that, Karl, makes me my mother. Makes me Petal. Makes me beyond redemption. So do I need to die too? Or this part of me, or this me that isn’t all of me? Can one go away without the other? Others? Am I Coyle? Because I couldn’t leave my mother – she had to die, and I can’t leave (husband), and I couldn’t leave any relationship I’ve ever been in that I’ve wanted to leave. Can’t see enough of my own self worth to make me want better for myself. So do I hate myself the way I hate Coyle, the way I hate my father? Yes. Karl says yes, ALL of it. And I say we say bullshit. It can’t be all of it it has to be something. I can’t manage this constant confusion, this slipping in and out of being. The slipperyness of being. Here one second, just kidding, gone the next. Come back, go away, nobody ever listening. Nailing jello to a tree. I don’t even know how to refer to myself. Selves. Me. Us. Them. The more I think about this crap the more differences I see. The more individual the parts of the sum. And I don’t know whether to hide it or name it. I don’t know how much craziness to admit to. Or I do. So I write this I want to send this. I want you to know what monster I’m battling. I didn’t know. Always fighting against something in the dark but now I see it. Sometimes. I only want to fight if I know I might win. The attacks at night, in the dark.   If you can’t win don’t fight. Give in, hurts less won’t last. Isn’t happening didn’t happen. Somelove better than no love.

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