Where is my life jacket?

I phoned with the therapist I emailed yesterday. I’m predicting I’ll phone her again tomorrow since I’m crying right now.

Today I got the OK from her to just zombie myself with oxazepam to deal with this. Basically and to be honest, there’s nothing to do against this kind of pain. And yep, it’s unbearable. So make it bearable with oxazepam.

I crawled back to bed and texted with Justy meanwhile I still felt like my inside was dying. My face was (and is) totally screwed up from all the crying. Suddenly Justy said; I’m coming over.

What a sweetheart ❤ it was definitely nice having her around. Although I do feel I was not much fun. I actually walked around with sunglasses because of my swollen eyes, but the cool wind outside did help a lot.

Right now she’s gone home and I’m on my couch again feeling like I’m dying bit by bit. It’s just never-ending nonsense! I really feel like calling that friend from yesterday (with whom I sat in the park) and just ask him to just hug me. Or for that matter even ask Brandon to just hold me. But I know I’ll never EVER do that with Brandon.

And to be honest, that friend and me have a whole history and the big question really is, is it smart for me to go ask him for help? Rationally I’d say; no.
But emotionally (instinctively > dying > instinct wants to live > anything to live) I’d say; yes.
Or maybe it’s just pain and it’s automatism to want to stop it directly. To me it’s a hug. Well whatever it is… it’s out of reach.

“You have to try to get those kind of things from yourself”

I can almost hear Brandon telling me that. But how the hell can I get comfort from myself, when all I can feel is this big ball of pain. How is there any comfort in that?

“Stop fighting it”

I’m not fighting it. It just hurts. It’s killing me.

Brandon, where are you?

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