wankfest

i've been thinking about this for a while, but i don't really have anybody to tell because bothering someone with it would seem like a total self-centered wankfest and i dont want to do that. no. this feels like something i should keep to myself, but as i can anonymously write whatever i want and as long as nobody recognizes me i'll be totally fine. i have a problem. but i don't see this problem as a problem worth therapy, or wasting a friends time to talk about, nothing anyone can fix, its just in here and i don't quite know what to do with it or how i would do with it if i could figure out the what. i was in therapy. i was when i was really young, 6 or 7, and again a couple of years ago. in my opinion, it was a couple years too late, when everything was festering and already ingraned and too deep for me to feel like it was worthy of conversation. it felt like asking for help would be a waste of time. i went voluntarily. but i never talked about what was going on with me, why i cried all the time, what was wrong. i kept the topics of conversation very safe, school this and theatre that, nothing really important. but had i spoken about what i was really feeling, why i really thuoght i needed to be there, i would have been embarrassed. i would have opened my mouth and immediately felt like i was wasting $60 an hour whining about the sorry state of my mind. because its silly. its a very silly thing, my mind. i can worry myself into a depression that looks like it'll never end, and the next morning i'll be completely happy and chipper and ready to Face the World. i stopped going because i felt like my shit isn't worthy of help, its just my pathetic attempt at saying "look at me i'm crazy" which happened on its own and i immediately wished it would just go away. it was like my heart wanted me to be nuts but my brain didn't want anyone to know about it.

that doesn't make any sense. sorry.