“The Preacher” dedicatedtoFavioandMicah

War.
War disarms me, like, a total lack of words.

How can something so universally hated, time-consuming, and costly be replayed so easily?

It’s like stubbing your toe, then after you have thoroughly recoiled and the whole speil, quickly retracing your steps to be sure it happens to the same set of toes once again.
Possibly not so hard as that first time, but who is really keeping track of the amount of pain flowing down your spine from your anterior insula and the anterior cingulate cortex down through your whole body anyway?

Time consuming and costly; what about drugs? Making drugs is costly and time-consuming. If you care one iota about making any sort of profit then you will put time into the drug you are choosing to create.

War is far more costly than making drugs,… isn’t it? War kills more people,… doesn’t it?

War is universally hated.

The music was blasting when I jumped into the back seat of his new, new to him, white car. Didn’t really care where they were driving, I just liked feeling him there.

“BRONWYN, TET OUT. NO OUT, NOW.”

I jumped out fast, he had never used that tone with me before now.
I triedto go back to ‘party’ and all of that; but, I am no good with social constructions designed purely for self mutilation.

Safe ride home and I will call it a successful night. After all, he did sort of talk to me for the first time in awhile, and what I would find out the next morning would be the last time he spoke to me at all.

The next morning was beautiful. Perfect morning. Crisp, fallish feeling mornings are always the best.

I would find out later that mornig something that I am glad had not waited too long to find me.

It would push me to the edge of whatever plateau I had been balancinng.
It would stretch me until I thought I might break open.
A thing that I couldn’t let anyone see directly how much it had affected me for fear of unwanted gossipy-bs.
Favio did not like people in his business; I was his business, and he knew it.

It broke me to try not to show everyone just how much he broke me.

I am fighting a silent war with every other decision I have made, or decisions I pleasantly am deciding not to make at all.

I just will not say it.

I don’t know if I want to ruin all of this talk of someone coming to talk with me about getting discharge on Monday,so I will not be telling Jerry(theheaddude) my feelings about things ubrubtly changing in my head.
UGH, ok; maybe I will…

I am thinking that explaining how …….. feelings, like not just fluffy whatever feelings, but like my gut feelings about myself, where I am right now, and what is currently around me or surrounding me. My gut feelings about myself and my surroundings change so rapidly that I will go from jokingly telling Nishant that I will jump in front of the next train to telling my mom that I am going to, maybe. Then the next second I willbe contemplating how that might even work out and how and why I was thinking that to begin with. Then the next thing I know, maybe the next morning, mornings are always good for me. The next morning or nanosecond I will be understanding how stupid that idea just was. Then I have a moment of insight and clarity. A weekend of clarity, maybe three weeks of clarity… I feel better than I can remember having felt in awhile.

Then, things dramatically fall, then they clear faster (or so I think)(can I even honestly say that my issues ‘cleared’ faster than the episode before this one?(when will they stop all-together?)

These phases of clarity and falling, when will they stop and not happen at all?

Maybe its just me being a hormonal 22 year old girl.

Maybe this sort of ‘phase’ or bout of depression happens to everyone, maybe?

that is why I came here.
i committed myself to this institution and its rules because i was falling, like always, watching myself fall. Watching myself get back up; falling again, watching myself get back up, again. then trying to somehow clock, or determine, the time these highs and lows were happening and planning to gauge all the triggers and all of that.

i almost think that I understand how and why these feelings keep hitting me liike a small truck; or, snowy curb on the side of the road. then i fall, but this time i am ready for it.

Am I?
Am I really?

ThankGod I have someone to blame…WTF? Why would it be ok to ever let anything like this happen and leave no one to blame at all?

Maybe it will never be so easy.

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