Do you hurt the way that I do?

Well. As usual, I'm supposed to be working but I'm not because I am trapped in my head, alone and scared. Psychologically damaged, I like to say. Pushing the blame for my own hatred. Sat down with a familiar face and finally asking for help. (Why did I think I could do this alone?) Talking a little too loudly, and because I forgot to check a blind spot, listened to myself from a third party's point of view and realized just how fucking needy and whiney I am. Get a fucking grip on yourself, woman. I think you would hate what I seem to have become... have I always been like this?? I don't seem to do recovery too well. "Nothing might happen but that's not what I want to fall back into" echoing in my head. How I really forgotten how unhappy I am? "You just can't handle it" I've been hiding from it for so long now. You would fucking hate me if I treated you the way you treat me. Honestly. She has got to love nobody. Pride isn't the prize, my dear. But every time I let it down, everything goes wrong. Maybe it's just the thrill of the chase and I am just a prize, a mark of victory. Maybe I am just like everybody else. I am aching for a simpler life. I just want something to hold on to, but not just anything. Yet I always find myself in the same position. Gun to my head, threatening voices, hatred. Void of the comfort I dream of. What am I even saying anymore.