Today I have felt the burden of my own being. I have felt the emotion disconnect of others as I spoke, and been ensure of what to do next. I have cried heavy tears. I have laughed uncontrollably, to the point where I question my sanity.
I feel like I am not enough – for anyone – for God.
Sunday, my sister leaves for college, and I will be left to start a new job and classes. As I sit on the floor of Bristol House, Damian’s strumming softly mingling with my thoughts, I recognize that I will be fine but I just want to run away. I want to stay in the house, on this floor, in my yoga pants and kitty shirt, until I die. I just want stability. It’s what I’ve worked toward all summer with my therapist, yet here I sit dreading the coming weeks.
Campers are gone, my staff has dispersed, I am returning to Criswell, and yet I can not cope. Maybe post-camper-depression is finally settling in, but I want it back more than I expected to experience this far past their departure. 
I’m so sick of feeling as though nothing has changed, and I have to guard myself from everyone all the time.

Thats all I have to say.



I'm just going to be real, sorry to offend.

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