Lessons on Disappointment

I cried all of the way home.

A strong person would be able to take the criticism and acknowledge the change to be done. But Jarrett's anger pained me in a deep place where I hurt myself a lot. A place that my mom has touched, anxiety, my most critical heavy judgments - my destructive self-hate. I feel... infantile. I am a fetus in the world. A couple of days ago, I truly thought that I had the power to figure out life and death. Now - I'm useless and fearful and a great disappointment - I suppose to myself. My paranoia made me panic in the car; I thought of the minds who watch me eat shit periodically. I hate them. I hate to be made small, but I get placed down here a lot. I flail at the bottom of the food chain. Like bones thrashing against the rocks.

Yesterday I had an attack after an intimidating interview. I took measures to comfort myself, and those decisions do not make me proud.

I feel like I've fucked up with Bryan. Tonight he text, "don't be rash." That's poor assessment on his part - he doesn't know me well. I already feel myself retracting, but that's what started this cycle. A large part of me wants to find comfort in him, and show him my dark. But. I don't want to draw him into my self-pitying dark hole. All afternoon, I made a map of how I feel and what I expect (versus want) from him. Last night, my brain went Freudian and gave me a fear-driven dream of exactly what I don't want happening should I ever have the courage to deliver this map. This is the biggest step.

So no. I am not suicidal. Just miserably disappointed.