two hundred twenty

so she says she doesn't understand why i don't understand,

because apparently i understand it all a little too well...

i just can't won't take a step.

i'm frustrated.

(she's frustrated.)

she brings up the term

"mentally masturbating"

and it makes me mad.

because what does that even mean???!!!

then she dares to mention

BPD

and it makes me furious.

so upset in fact that i spit out the truth.

i almost start to cry.

and she calls it a breakthrough.

what do i do?

...shut down...

ever so naturally.

because i'm sick of working in circles.

sick of wondering why i lack the motivation to act,

opposed to torturing myself with the cyclical analysis of it all.

at the end she casually says

thank you for your honesty

and tells me to

embrace my weaknesses.

she has no idea how piercing that honesty feels as it courses out of me

as unfiltered as it was in that impulsive instant of pure truth.

i feel bad that i've cracked.

that she's seen that i'm broken.

and that the facade can never be resurrected.

she tells me to come back next week-

i say i'll see her in like, a month, maybe.

she says to call if i need anything.

and i simply smile as i

walk.out.the.door

because i'm bored, and stuck, and exhausted.

and i really just need a diet coke

and a few other things

and a break from it all.