I hate

I hate that I ruined an otherwise perfect day

I hate that something that seemed so small and insignificant was, in fact, a major trigger and set me spiraling out of control

I hate that you saw past the facade and met the real, twisted me; the me I have worked tirelessly to keep hidden

I hate that I couldn't control my breathing, let alone my thoughts, and wanted to run out in to traffic to make it all stop

I hate that, in that very moment, it was the only way I could see out, so clouded was my head with white noise, fear and pain that being alive was pure agony

I hate that I was so afraid to ask for help from the person who understands me and can, within a few moments, direct me to safety, that I didn't call her, didn't text her, just sent her a DM on Twitter that I knew she might not get, so terrified I was of inconveniencing her

I hate that afterwards I found out she'd had a shit of a day and I felt even worse for asking for help

I hate that I see things so black and white while you see things in wonderful shades of grey and brilliant colour that I can only dream of

I hate that you had a glimpse in to my mind and how it works, how fucked up it really is

I hate that you saw how quickly I go from seemingly normal to psychotic and in need of urgent care when faced with a triggering situation

I hate that you saw me at my most vulnerable, slumped on the pavement, my body heaving with sobs and guttural moans, looking anything but Glowing

But most of all, I hate that you told me to snap out of it and stop crying

I hate that when I tried to explain, you said I just wanted to be molly coddled when what I needed was validation and a chance to calm down in a safe environment

I hate that when I begged and pleaded with you to stop saying it you ignored me and said I needed to hear it


That is more painful than anything else