There are days that U absolutely hate being female.

No, I'm not talking about those days.

I'm being really contained. I'm going along and trying to not focus on the end of joy. I'm finding other things that bring me pleasure, and I'm doing a good job.

Colin Farrell, good thing, Ellen...SUCH a good thing.

I actually fool myself into thinking I'm getting better.

Oh sure, he calls and I'm strong on the phone and then hang up and have to either do an immediate distract or get really down, but overall, in the minute to minute I'm okay.

Then something so stupid happens.

Dr. Evil asked for help with something that I didn't really feel like doing. I agreed. He tried to help me help him and inadvertently shut a drawer on the tip of my right pointer finger. Like for awhile because it hurt so much I couldn't speak to ask him to back up. It's painful. It's throbbing, It's difficult to type, but the problem is I busted out in tears.

I ran to the bathroom and sobbed and sobbed.

I know it's not about the finger. I know it's because of Don and because of things that I can't say, even to myself, but know down deep are true and it's not going to go away but I can mask it...

Until my finger gets shut in a drawer.

such a fucking girl thing.

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