Shrink(ing)

Where do I start? So much has been happening, I guess that's the curse of only writing occasionally. I have to leave shit out so this doesn't turn into a novel.

Today I attended an "intake session" at a local mental services clinic.

It's not something I can speak freely about here, even though I'm sure it's clear to everyone in my family that I'm batty as hell. I didn't tell anyone that I went today. It was hard, it IS hard to go talk about what hurts and what's bothering me. A lot bothers me.

My "reasons" include PTSD (the fire), family "problems", substance abuse, and an eating disorder. Yes, I placed a check next to that box (endless paperwork-ugh!). This does not mean that I will "work on" that particular issue. I just thought they should know that I have a messed up relationship with food, but I whole-heartedly believe that my other "problems" should come first. Perhaps in healing my mind I will find peace. With eating and everything. That'd be good, but do I have the dedication? My fear of commitment holds me back, but I have to try this. I need to be normal.

I unfortunately don't go back for a week. Another endless week with unlimited opportunities to self-sabotage and self-destruct. I do both so well.

Oh, and I quit my job on Friday. The next day I got hired somewhere else. I haven't started yet, but it's something.

I know, I know...see why I need to go talk to someone? I'm freaking out, man! My mood is all over the place.

I have been messing around with that hot J. I told you about (a few weeks ago). He doesn't live around here, but he's been home several weekends. No sex, just hot and heavy making out/grinding up/touching/getting physical. He's rough. He pushed me against the garage and it was so hot. He is into S&M, I can tell. Well, so am I, apparently. My body gets so warm when I remember the sexiness of it all. He's extremely hard to read though. And, um, we only see each other when drinking and partying. So we haven't technically been sober around each other (unless you count the mornings after or a few emails sent during the day).

At one point we were making out on this mattress (I know how ghetto that sounds, we were in our friend's house) and I pulled away; he roughly pushed me and I glared at him as I did it back. Kissing again. Pull away, slow things down, calm yourself. Then our mouths find each other, like magnets. And his hands cover my body and my bones. And I feel his sexy hip bones with my fingers, rubbing them gently, and then with a little aggression. And we're kissing, and breathing our hot breath on each other's necks and faces, and he's talking dirty to me. I want to fuck you so hard, so bad. You're so fucking gorgeous, I want you, I'm so hard, Touch me...

I want him so bad it's driving me mad...

...

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Think thin!!

Xo

Sar

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