First of Many

Today I made my first visit to the therapist my mom has been seeing.

She taught me how to breathe.

 I told her about being depressed since 7th grade and how I don't exactly eat normally and how my mood depends on my current weight and how high it's risen or how far it's dropped.

And I told her that maybe I wasn't a very happy person and I tried not to cry the entire time because whenever I have to tell people these things I always begin to cry and it's like fighting back the whole Persian army to keep the tears in my eyes and off my cheeks because I hate people knowing anything about me that isn't positive, perfect, or a lie.

Because that is how I live and that is where I'm comfortable.

And the woman made soothing noises and told me she's seen everything which doesn't comfort me one bit because I can still feel her judgement and she knows my mother and I  haven't even told her I'm going to die yet. So I don't know why I tell her my secrets because you know what? they're MINE. m. i.n.e and I tell no one else except maybe just a couple few people.

But I really can't stop because everything is so overwhelming I need someone to complain to but GOD I swear the moment I cry in front of her is the moment my dignity is forever gone. So I will not cry for her not today, not next week not ever because if I can hold onto one thing it's my fucking dignity and I. will. not. give. it. up.

But still talking feels good.

And after I breathed real deep and real long and all of the sudden I was calm and clear. And it was a feeling I haven't felt in years I think and I have no effing clue where it came from but at that moment I  felt angels or God or something and it was the weirdest thing ever.

And tonight I still want to die.