Whew! made it through the dysfunctional family reunion

It was mostly ok.  There were some times when i just had to get away, so i would sneak in my bedroom for awhile but no one noticed

Home now, safe and sound in the fortress of of solitude.  And I’m so tired,  I’m sleeping so much.

I don’t want to leave the apartment,  i have a fear something will happen while i am gone.  then i’m afraid to come home to find out what the bad thing is / was.  i imagine the other residents massed like unruly peasants with pitchforks and they’re angry at a leak, at a fire, at a smell.

of course none of that does happen,  and i know it’s irrational but it’s in my head.

so i sleep.  is this depression?  i do not know.  i am accustomed to anxiety,  but if this is

depression, that would be new

and i wonder,  since 2 of my molesters are dead,  the other 2 did not attend=  why did i dread it so?   is it because i think i was abused by people who were supposed to love me,  clearly anyone who claims to love me could be dangerous.  that would certainly explain some trust issues.

well,  it’s a germ of an idea that i have to think about.  it will be such a relief to have something other than suicide to think  about

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