Worth... That word looks weird. I am studying a language other than English, and my brain want to go to that language. The English words sound different when I read them.

But that's not why we started this particular topic. I am debating on telling off a friend. This friend drove to see me. Now that she is here, I don't want her here. I also don't want to send her away because it was a hell of a drive. I keep telling myself that I should have sent her away. She digs and digs and questions and interrogates. I have been rude and grumpy around her. I don't want her around. I can't send her away. She is sitting in the room where I have been working. I am thrown off my game. She is in my way. I am treating her the same way I would treat someone else at times. The problem is that I do not love this person. I love that other person that is not here. I could convince myself that this person is in the way. Maybe I could just be honest. Maybe I can calmly state that I am uncomfortable with her around. I could also say that I don't like that she questions me to try and understand her own relationship better. I could say that she is annoying as hell with her lack of confidence. She is annoying me with her statements. She is annoying me with her needs. I don't want to provide you a place to stay if it causes detriment to me. I am sick and tired of placating to others when I need to placate myself. I need to be alone. I want to be alone. I want to be with someone, and I am torturing myself. The comment that grinds me now is the comment she made when I said, "I keep torturing myself." She responded, "that's no good." I asked why it isn't any good, and her answer was, "I don't know." I was a little confused that she would say something and then not be able to tell me why she said it. I asked. She gave a response that prompted me to say, "yeah, I get that." She didn't want to be attacked. I am also pissed at myself that this person is pissing me off. I don't seem to have improved in that area. I am not drawing a proper boundary, and I gave in to her request to come visit, her request to come with me today, her request to stay at my place, her request to just stay in the apartment, her request to go get food, her request to do anything. I am burdened and feel burdened, and then I said she wasn't a burden, and I am going crazy in my head because this person doesn't seem to get it. I am also going crazy because all of this is caused by me, not by her. I am the cause of the tension. I am the cause of my own grumpiness. I am the one who is torturing me. I am the one who did all of this. She is just trying to help. She's not helping. She also asks me some pretty ridiculous questions, and I attacked her for her dumbass question earlier, twice maybe. I bought about ten different types of chocolate at the chocolate store. I came back and there were two left. I offered her one. She picked up one, looked at it, and put it back, and picked up the other one. She said something like, "oh, this is the blueberry one." I don't remember buying a blueberry one. She ate it, and said it was a little spicy. I offered, "that must have been the black currant chili one." She said, "oh yeah, it is." I am silently judging her already for making the assertion that she will try to remember which one was which. I thought this a little weird because she wasn't looking at the chocolates with me. She was petting the cat. I bought several of these chocolates, and I never saw her examine the shelf where these chocolates were sitting. She glanced at the shelf, but she wasn't there while I picked out the chocolates. It felt like I relived the entire shopping experience in the course of a three second period in my head. I tried to piece together how she would possibly remember which chocolates were which. I spent time going through the shelf, asking questions of the store clerk. I took pictures of the shelf, and I had gone through the picture to identify another chocolate since buying them. After all the looking I did, I couldn't tell which one was which. How could she know that she got the blueberry one, that I don't remember buying. I looked back at the pictures, and I did buy a blueberry one. As I said, this is all in my head. But the one she picked was not the blueberry one. Maybe I got it all wrong again. Maybe this is just a continuation of the torture but only now directed at this person. What am I doing?

I will not be inviting this person to stay with me again. She is too much for me to handle. I am struggling to take care of myself. She keeps asking me for things, and I don't have the time or energy to give her anything. But that's not true, I have the time and the energy. I don't have the desire. That is probably more like it. I lack the desire to bring her along. She doesn't have any money. Now she wants to just be where I am, stay at my place, eat where I eat, ride with me, I don't fucking know what I'm saying anymore. The writing is not helping me digest these thoughts. The writing is keeping me stuck in this back and forth pattern.

Let's write about something else. I got some great advice today. A lady told me something. She recommended I go into nature and let it out. She said to scream, cry, and cry some more. She said to allow nature to take it from me. She said I should hug a tree. She said I should sit in nature and let the emotions into nature because nature will absorb this from me. She said nature has the capacity to take it out of me.

I like that advice. I can give all this sadness to nature, and it will take it. She also told me that I looked like I was hurting deeply. She saw it in my eyes. I can see it in the eyes of a picture of someone else. I don't see a happy energy behind the eyes, I see a sadness being masked. I feel the same sadness, and my eyes reveal me. I may smile, but my eyes contain the deep sorrow that lurks underneath.

I would like for the rain to stop. HAHAHAHA! Okay, after writing that whole thing about praying for rain, I am now asking it to stop. Too much rain, and I will be flooded and drowned. I wonder if I am at the point of too much rain. I wonder if I am drowning in the sorrow because I cannot allow myself to move past hurting the person I love, and again, and again, and not knowing how to stop hurting myself. Do I not deserve to be happy because I took that away from the person I love? What am I really doing with the torture that accomplishes anything. Wish you the best. Fucking hell bullshit fuck nonsense shitty bastard asshole just burn in the torture you deserve you monstrous piece of shit. If you cannot treat the one you love with love, how do you deserve to love yourself. How can you see good in this world when all you bring is hurt to loved ones and friends. I torture myself with this anger and contempt I feel for myself. (all of these "you" statements are me talking to me, this is all me, this is not about you, reader). I feel the need to write and write and explain myself and justify. I also feel the need to make these things come true. I am trying to manifest myself into this monster. I am the monster. I am the scary, violence personified toward myself. My brain does it to me while I sleep. I am drenched in sweat when I wake, and I cannot stop the mind from trapping me in a situation that scares me. The dreams betray me. The dreams have me locked in and not being able to get away, being chased, but always being caught. The dreams are such a mind fuck, and they control. Please just run away from myself. Please let the dreams stop. Please let me get away. Mind! I am saying to you that all of this is unnecessary.

I can see why no one wants to be around me. I'm fucking crazy. I don't want to be around me. I used to like myself. Now, I hate myself.

But this is not a cry for help or anything like that. These are just words. And now that I've typed a whole bunch of words, I can't remember what they are. As soon as I type something, it is out of my head and I forget it. I don't go back to look. These were written so I wouldn't have to look at it. I don't believe what I write. This is not how I think. This is not how I feel. This is how I escape the torture from running back and forth in my head. This is just the work of being better. I am now about to flip this the entire other direction. Am I about to say that I love myself and I love the others, and nothing is actually a burden. which one is the lie. Those people who left were the lucky ones. I wish I could leave me too. I'm way too much. I'm way too crazy. I'm way too in the head or not thinking or overthinking or just plain dumb and blind. I am all of these things and none of these things. Where did my confidence go? I am fucking broken, man. How do I put the pieces back together? I so wish that part 2 was never shared. It was so fucking wrong in many places. Which places? Now it can't even be said to trust my writing. I look back and am fucking destroyed that that happened. Please don't torture yourself any more. Please be nice to yourself. Fuck off, and leave me alone. I am tired of placing unreasonable constraints on myself. I am the enemy of myself and I deserve all of the pain. I beat myself because of that. I just remembered something. I used to self harm. I tried to give myself a cool scar one time. I thought it would be cool to have a scar that went from above my eyebrow and diagonally across my eye to just below the eye. I figured the best way to give the scar would be with a hot metal object. I didn't believe the knife would leave a sufficient scar. I took a metal file, the kind used to grind other metal. I heated it, with a lighter or torch or whatever. I applied the flame until it got hot, very hot. I closed the right eye, looking in the mirror. I took the very hot metal object and pressed against my face, from a couple centimeters above the eyebrow and across the eye. When the metal touched the flesh, a hissing sound screeched out from the metal as the flesh boiled and melted underneath the hot metal. The sound was that of steak being laid on a hot pan, the sizzle and steam emanated from the skin as the metal seared the flesh. I pressed it again, and again, until the skin was charred and burnt. The melted flesh had a smell that wasn't very pleasant. The hair of the eyebrow was affected, and the skin was left in a condition that wasn't very pleasant either. To my surprise, and disappointment, the wound healed without a scar. Kinda feels like a pointless exercise because the goal was never reached. I didn't get the scar, and I still suffered the torture I put myself through. Meaningless exercises in torturing myself. Why go through the pain? Why do that to myself? I wanted a scar to show off. But I am thinking that self inflicted scars aren't actually that cool. They tell the story of how I put myself in the situation, and how I stopped hurting myself. But they cannot ever be the cool story about I was fighting a bear and got this scar above my eye when the bear swiped me across the face and knocked me to the ground before I was able to defeat the bear. It wasn't a dual with swords that nearly turned fatal but the gash only got to my eye before I defeated the enemy. It is not a story of survival against the world. It is a story of survival against myself. But I was in control the entire time, and I don't give myself much respect for getting myself out of problems of my own making. I did this, I chose this, and I don't get credit for just stopping what I started.

Is that correct? Do I get no credit? Can I give credit for learning how to love myself? Do I even love myself? I certainly used to. But I don't know anymore. That's a topic for another day.