I Was Mistaken. . . . . . .
For Handing You A Heart Worth Breaking

I just realized something. I am teaching myself to let go. I have been and still am going thru every nook and crany of my life, examining its contents, discarding what I don't need, taking what I have left, the things I feel have value and organizing them and cherishing them. I am finding, while it is very difficult to let go of some things, it is possible to do so and survive. I think subconsciously, I am practicing to let go of Mark. Want to know the sad thing? I don't want to let go of him. I want the man back that I fell in love with, I know he is not dead as I have been told. Surely, if he were truely dead, then I would be as well, we share the same heart. I know he is in there somewhere, I just need to slay the beast for him, cut it open and snatch him out of its innards, like a fairly tale. The beast, we'll call him CARTER, has my Sweet Angel held captive right now. And I, The Rainbow Eyed Fire Woman, will save him so that we may live happily ever after. Sounds nice, no?I think letting go has become a matter of survival for me. I am driving myself crazy obsessing about this tragedy. I know if I continue, I will become crippled with anxiety and will be unable to cope with daily life. I'll retreat to my bed, my safe place, to ride out the storm.

{{Panick attack status was achieved during the writing of this entry, due to the nature of its emotionally traumatic content}}

I think I need drugs.