July with Paris eating out Nicole

Worst day ever for loud heart. Worse every day.
No reason. The reason is everywhere that was comforting
is gone, everything is absolutely altered. I don't feel safe
in my home. To get out is ending.

Loud loud loud. Short of breath except when I exercise. Made a video
because I need to see how I look from the outside. You'd think you
could see my heart beating in my chest, is what I think. But I can't.
And that is some comfort.

With everything stripped down, away, like everyone said for the best:
moving; new home; facing deep problems (some of them) - I feel like
a fool or not like one for missing how I couldn't just pretend away everything.
And even more recently; thinking I could stop how bad it makes me feel the
years of punishing myself staying with someone I feared and loathed. I'm used
to it and love it. I needed it. When I am not punishing myself that way maybe I
look for other ways. Thoughts piling up; it is exponential I guess. The more of them
the more of them behind. I can think STOP and that seeds off a whole new set. I know
I didn't deserve what I got but I made it. I remember that maybe this isn't real
is some aftereffect. But these are just more piles of thoughts overlapping some
other things. All of it I can live with. Like the knife above my right shoulder blade,
the way my flesh sears when I open the fridge, the wholeness with which my
bed, which once held escape, now swallows me up like a hungry angry mothermouth
full of bright teeth.

And thump thump thump, like I was being chased. How I crave that. I remember clearly telling someone about the happiest day of my life: The day TP's enemy got out of jail and every friend on the road told me he was about to stab me. I carried a silly paring knife in my pocket to work every night that week and carefully waited to walk home at small hours of the night, alone and slowly, heart racing with good fucking real purpose.

The comfort of purpose.
Looking for itthump.