Broken

At first I was angry. I was so angry. And then I was sad. And then scared. And now I'm hovering in this place between fear and fury and insecurity and sleep. And I just want to sleep and dream of nothing. Because its safe there. I find safety in in the static and blur of a dream where I am nothing. I see nothing, I hear feel and sense nothing. And Maybe that is what it feels like to die. Peaceful and safe. So in the end, we all are safe.
Or maybe this is just my way of hiding. But what am I hiding from?
Knowing that sometimes I cant change what is wrong. That it's not up to me. That it's not that easy, not that simple.
The fact that I am scared beyond belief to love, to live.
And I think I need to talk to someone again.
Like a psychologist. again, but this time I want help. And I will trust this time.
I will talk, but I need help with figuring out where to begin.
I am just finding out that I have so much to say. And that there are people willing to listen.
My story needs to be heard. From beginning to end. And I need help with the details. With remembering. With getting it all out. I am strong enough. I will take the steps to make things better. Now all I need is time.