Something out of my control happened. An animal broke something of someone else’s. And I couldn’t have possibly stopped it. Didn’t see it happening. But it still happened and I still feel like it was my fault somehow.
I was okay. I was feeling okay. Yet one thing, that I KNOW I couldn’t control happens, and here I am. Crying on the sofa, feeling so much guilt. And I can feel all those thoughts coming back. But my friend is the one upset, so I’m certainly not going to show this feeling: That being dead to me seems easier than whatever is happening…
My birthday is tomorrow.
Something bad always happens on or very near my birthday.
And in that fact i’m not sure if I should have been born. And I’m not sure I want to have another one.