... 539

There is too much that I hide inside, too much swallowed words and suppressed emotions. They are dark, and growing darker.

That is not whining, it's an observation. And a warning to myself to watch out because it won't just fade away, it is bound to transform into something and the consequences will be... let's say it won't be pretty.

I don't know what is the right thing to do.

I can't go to a counselor.
I am not willing to spare neither time nor money on this - there are far more important things to spend both on. Which opens a whole chapter of new questions: 1) I don't think counseling can help? 2) I think I can work it out on my own, as I usually do? Because I think that no one can help me better than I can help myself? 3) I think that everything else is of a higher priority than I am?

I can't turn to a friend either.
I have just a few friends to begin with and I wouldn't risk making them even fewer by pouring on them the mess that my mind is. No, that is not exactly it. The truth is that all they could do would be to listen politely and in awkward silence and that just won't do. It has to be shared with someone who will know from personal experience what I am talking about and what I mean. There isn't such a person among my friends.

But there is... I just realized there is one. The problem is that he lives in another city. We've met once, I'm sure we'll meet again one day - hopefully it will not be too late.

I guess I have to accept that this is how it will always be - with my demons over my shoulder. Now and then I manage to escape them but they always find me. Maybe I should try to befriend them.