KneeJerk

I'm having a kneejerk reaction.

I don't feel like my feelings count, or that it matters less when I am hurting or scared or angry.
I know that's not what was meant. I know that it's more that I handle myself well in the face of whatever and she does not.

But I am not happy.
Actually, I'm fucking furious, and raging and screaming and crying internally.

But y'know. My feelings don't count. Don't matter. Doesn't need to be heard. I'm fine.
I'll be fine.

I know my first instinct is to run away. I know that I take care of myself and why and how that ended up happening.
But I am so goddamn tired of hiding and running.

I'm tired of feeling like I don't count. I'm just tired. I feel worn out and done to a turn and I want the world to take a pause for a year or two, for me to sleep off feeling so backed into a corner.
Even in Chicago, it wasn't like this.

It was never like this.
I may start writing here regularly again. I need a space I can be honest on. I don't think t'other is one I can anymore.

And gods, I am so fucking tired. I'm tired of intrusive thoughts of throwing myself in front of trains or cars. I'm tired of feeling sick to my stomach when I'm vulnerable, and worried if this is the time I'm made to regret it.

I'm just...tired