12/11/21

I have wondered how many times I could get away with playing with fire. Then I wondered just how many times I would get burned and still not learn not to play with fire in the first place. Somehow I doubt I ever learned the answers. Then again, I doubt I would have listened to myself regardless.

I have lived long enough to have gone through most, if not all, of the possible excuses for refusing accept something I have suspected my entire life I would eventually have to face. Even when not doing so almost cost me my life.

Sitting here now I have to wonder just how sad it is that I would rather die than just be who I am and yet it is something I have done more than once.

It might be surprising to some to know I have been struggling with writing this post for months, maybe even years yet in the end I would do everything I could to avoid even thinking about any of this in a way which I could put into words and if that failed I would actually write until I ran ou thoughts and words, leaving nothing but raw emotions hanging in my head like a kicked hornets nest. Then I would delete it and find something relatively safe and post it instead.

Now I could blame all of this on ever increasing bouts of depression and anxiety wringing out every ounce of strength, leaving me unable to do anything other than simply function for one more day, and while this is true, I just can’t accept this as an honest answer because I know it’s a cop out. The truth is, more than anything, I am scared and it has been simpler to run away regardless of the price.

Now, I am uncertain where things might go from here and while I might hold some small hope I will be able to find a way forward but given my track record to this point, I can’t help but expect all of this to end badly and maybe that is as it should be.

I’ll end this little sob story here, I just can’t push myself any further. What little strength I had is gone and I no longer trust myself.

~Kira

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