damik's Diaryland Diary

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Dear Dr Tom

Dr. Tom,
I want to say I'm sorry. I often apolgise for the way I react to things, the things I say or don't say, and this is one of those times.
I'm sorry I haven't been compleatly honest with you. I'm not trying to be decietful, I'm not trying to hinder what we are doing here. And it's not that I don't trust you.
Each week I come in with every intention to talk openly and honestly. Each week I plan on being frank and streight forward. But as I sit in that chair, face to face with you, I freeze. Not unlike, to use an overplayed simmili, a deer in the headlights. My eyes wide and my heart stoped, I just can't say the things I desperatly need to say. So I let you take the lead. I follow you willingly to areas I'm comfortable going and slide past the others with a joke or other distraction.
If I were to be open, I might tell you that I'm afraid I can't be open. That maybe it's not possiable for me let anybody in, and that it may never be possible.
I don't think I can ask for help. You've told me to before, but I can't even ask some one I'm paying to help me, to help me. How can I tell some one in my life that I need help.
I don't know if it's a trust issue, or something else. I would like to say that it's not that I don't trust you, but I don't know if it is that I don't trust you. Am I making any sence?
I am so afraid of losing control. And I'm afraid that no matter what I do, I will lose control.
There were so many people. I just wanted them to see. My earth science teacher, Mr. Frohm, Coach Christy, Dr. T, Jeff and Keven, Frank, Andrew, Adam. I hung around them, still very much a wide eyed child hoping they would see my desperation, hoping one of them would rescue me. I remember countlees hours after class, after work following him around, a hopeless puppy. But I couldn't just ask for help. I can't just ask for help.
Even now, I think of emailing Adam, or calling or sending a text message if I could.
I need a friend.
And I imagin telling him of my loneliness. How hopeless and helpless and lost I feel. How I don't feel like I could ever matter. How I wonder if I could even go on. I would talk and he would understand. He'd tell me that he'd always be there for me. And that I'm a good person and a good friend. And maybe I'd even believe him.
But he's got a family and he's got a life, and he doesn't need me or my problems to bother him.
I can't even talk to Trevor.
I don't know, I'm sorry I sabotoge our time. I don't set out to do so. I'm not worth the energy. I'm not worth the time.

10:52 p.m. - 07-26-02
5 comments

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