Diary Entry 46
One Year Ago
Dear Twila,
I pour a lot of emotions out on your pages. Hopes. Dreams. Secrets. Grievances, Sorrows. You often hear about my dark days and the scary places my mind goes.
Honestly, though? It’s not the times when I’m feeling unbelievably broken that mean the worst. For me, it’s most dangerous when I go beyond that.
Numb.
I reach that level when things are too far gone for me to even begin to grapple with. I go numb when my mind and body agree that nothing can salvage the place of despair that I’ve found myself in. Numb means I ask questions with answers I don’t like.
What’s the point?
Why bother?
What’s the use?
The answers to those questions always end up with me coming to the same deadly conclusion.
There isn’t a point.
I shouldn’t bother.
It’s no use.
Going numb means I’m ready to give up.
I fear I might be going there, Twila.
Don’t let me go there.