The Diary of A Self-Appointed Surgeon; a Phoenix

Am I alone in this fight? Is anybody out there?

“You look teary eyed today. Sad.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too.”

“Do I ?”

“Yes. Like you could burst out into tears any minute.”

“No, I’m ok. I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Nope. You are not.”

I remember this day so clearly. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the day I had to go to Lincoln Trail. But it was so long ago. But you know what’s weird? This conversation always comes to mind when I’m teary eyed. When I’m trying to hold so many things in. When I’m trying to comprehend so much. When I’m down to nothing. When I’m on the verge of giving up. And somehow, it gives me hope. It makes me remember that there were people in my life who cared—even though I didn’t know at the time that they cared. So that must mean that there are people now in my life that care, right? That’s what it has to mean. Right? I just need to keep reminding myself to keep holding on. Because I’m slipping. And I’m slipping fast.

How do you expect me to be okay when you tear me down all the time?

Stop. Just stop. Stop criticizing me. Stop telling me I can’t do my program. Stop telling me how much of a failure I am. I’m not a failure. I am surviving. I am doing good for once. I am finally doing what I want to do. I can do my program. I can do counseling. I can do whatever I want because I am strong.

Stop telling me to get a job. I have been looking for one. You are constantly on my back about it and it hurts my feelings. You hurt me every single day. If you aren’t beating the hell out of me, you’re talking down to me. I’m so sick of fighting with you. I’m so sick of you telling me this blog is immature. It’s not. It is my way of coping. You don’t have to like it.

Please. Please just stop tearing me down.

Cutting

Will always be apart of me. Always.