Guilting the lily
Well, the past few days have been a bit rocky for me, keeping myself in suspense about what I'm going to do while enduring the usual input from outside.
Honesty has been a recurring theme: how much do I owe her, or do I owe it to myself, regardless of the trouble it would cause. And do I have the guts?
See, the problem I have dealing with her input is that I tend to see some way in which she could be correct. For instance, even if she accuses me of something I'm not doing, the fact that I am doing things she wouldn't approve of bothers me. Or if she says that I don't even have the guts to commit suicide, even though I think that's a good thing, I'm still ashamed that I am afraid. I can discount the actual accusation, but still some of the attack gets through, because of my guilty feelings. I think that's why things got harder right after I conceived of moving out: my guilt increased. It doesn't matter that it needs doing, I just feel bad doing it, and that leaks into everything else.
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