My therapist does not understand this yet, it’s ok, my spiritual life is all I have left and I have to make that work. There are no other options and I can’t get it into my head that they exist. It’s too painful to fall down, that’s what makes me want to hurt myself so much. The wiggle room does not exist, and frankly I don’t want it to, I try to stay out of people’s way, I am trying to turn into a person that could be a great husband some day, yet my niece and nephew think I hate them. I don’t I just don’t know how to manage kids, and when I look at my crap childhood I want them to have better because they should.
I am trying to get out of my own way and I have to sacrifice more than I have. It’s funny that I am a sex addict, and gay andnyet that same combination is killing me and now I am on the antidepressants to counterbalance that. Yet what my therapist does not see is that each time I fall, it buries me with a depression so thick so deep it’s hard to get out.
I hate myself because this is a part of me and I desperately want to be better, all the way around. To have to burrow my feelings down as well. The absolute regret of all of the choices I have made over the past two years has brought me more pain than 10 years ago. It’s a hurt in my chest that feels bigger than myself at times. I am torn into places I shouldn’t be in and trying to live in the one space where my happiness exist in.
Trying hard not to be swallowed by a darkness I can’t fight alone.