Frozen.

No matter how I think we grow
You always seem to let me know
It ain't workin'
It ain't workin'
And when I try to walk away
You'd hurt yourself to make me stay
This is crazy
This is crazy

The more time I spend with future nurses, the more I realise that I have little faith in the future of our health care system.

If I have to hear mentally ill patients refered to as "missing screws", "wackos", or "some real crazies" one more time I'm going to explode. Or maybe implode. Yes, implode.

Someone comes into my class to talk about renal failure, a real sob story of transplants and dialysis. Everyone cries and admires. But when someone is in mental failure they mock them.

It's bad enough that I have to feel like I am fighting my own brain every day, all day, just to get through the day. But having someone tell me that its my fault. That makes me burn.

Somtimes I get so tierd of trying to pretend that I'm normal that I end up making myself look even more abnormal than I already am. I hate having to get up every morning and have to think about every single thing I am going to say and do. I hate being sensitve and I hate being sad. I hate feeling like I am going to cry all the time. I hate having to fight with my own head just to read a stupid text book chapter. I hate worrying about everything I say.

I hate feeling ashamed because of something that I can't even control. I hate being shamed instead of admired. I hate having to hide who I am becuae people probably won't want to be my friend if they find out.

I hate feeling like my brain is rotting from the inside out. I hate not going through one single day without wishing that I wasn't me.

I hate hating myself.

What's It Gonna Be.

Tell me why you're looking so confused
When I'm the one who didn't know the truth
How could you ever be so cold

For weeks now I have been debating whether or not I should just give in and ask.

What was it about me that made him act the way he did? I thought I had resigned to the fact that I am woman, hear me roar, I have no faults and I could not possibly be with someone who can accept me completely for everything I am, good, bad, ugly.

I had grand plans of signing myself off the nunery, formulating a list of everything a man MUST have to be with me and sitting around waiting for pigs to fly.

But over the past couple of days this feeling of doubt in my plan started to creep in. Is it better to not know... or to know and try to fix it?

By asking for some sort of explanation I take a lot of risks. The biggest one being that he emails me back with a list, or even one, major fault that made him want to pretend I was dead. Can I handle that kind of criticism? Can I take it with a grain of salt and thoughtfully reflect on it? Incorporate it into who I am and try not to let it happen again?

Or will I spin into a deep hole of self-pitty, self-hate and remorse?

The second risk is that he continues to pretend that I am dead and doesn't respond. Further making me wonder and further rotting away at my belly.

It's so easy to assume that he's the asshole. It's a cop out and its an excuse to know what really happened. I can sit around with my girls and bash his brains out about what scum he is for treating me this way. Is it more noble to ask if it was my fault?

Is it better to know... or to assume?

I have decided to send the message... a simple line:

"do I at least get an explanation as to why you are pretending I don't exist?"

If the response comes I will have a choice to open or not to open. Maybe I will let it sit in my inbox until I am having a fantastic day and then open it and finally know what happened.

But I have to promise myself something. I have to promise that if things get ugly and things get even a smidge out of control I will call for help. I will reach out a hand and ask my friends and family to hold my hand as I take it one step at a time.

I have to promise that no matter how bad things get I am worth an explanation.