As badly as I want to, I can't take back the things that I've done. It's a heavy burden to bear alone. Talk me through this. You never have anything to say. (Taking no action is also an action.) I never feel like I have the right to be upset. I play my happy, funny, friendly part while I'm sick to my stomach and ready to snap. It's always about my shortcomings. What I don't have, can't be -- for you, for everyone else. Is it selfish to think that everything is my fault? My head is a mess. My heart is a mess. My nerves are a mess.

I wonder if it will all come back around one day. Probably not, but it makes me feel a little better to think it might.