The problem with keeping secrets is that they are alive sometimes.
I like to think that my secrets can lie quietly in my mind, as dirt lies
quietly on the ground. But when a storm comes, dirt tends to blow around everywhere. Secrets aren’t just our creations, they are our
creatures, beings with wills of their own and they will grow. The scariest
thing about secrets is that they want out. My secrets often try to escape into
an open for all to see, because keeping them to myself sometimes leads to my
complete psychological destruction. My secrets are simply a part of my life
that has been forced into hiding.
It’s right around 1 in the morning, and I’ve only had 6 hours of
sleep in 2 days. Eventually my body and mind will crash. I’ve just been racking
my brain trying to think why I did what I did, and what was going through my
mind at the time. I had to force the chemical imbalance to shift in my brain in
order to feel some sort of relief, peace, and even completion. Maybe even make
life feel fair again. I guess it’s all due to the need to be accepted as I am,
but I know that can never happen as long as there is a part of me that no one sees
or knows.
“Seizing the opportunity to momentarily exercise control
when the perception is one of powerlessness.”
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