So it is 3 AM and apparently my brain doesn’t care that I have to be up in less than 3 hours to go to work. So I am up with my thoughts of failing as an individual because I am not where I thought I would be career-wise and more importantly, failing at the idea that I would be planning a wedding at 28 or 29. I was never meant to be single. When I am, I turn into an even more depressed douchbag than I was when I was in a relationship. I talked to Veronica the other dat just to tell her that I got a new number, to hear your voice and to see how my babies were doing. It eventually came up that my therapy sessions were becoming more serious as I tap into an alter. She claimed to have told me long ago that she felt I had some Type of personality disorder. It’s probably true too; it is always the addict or the really fucked up person that can’t see they have a problem. I just wish I was sane enough to have trusted her more. I would have been able to get help sooner and maybe my life would be different. I asked if she thought I was crazy and she dais no. Something about the way she said it, was filled with so much love and concern, I believed her instantly. It wasn’t until after a few moments after I got off the phone (for which she said I love you and I couldn’t but say it back. In that moment, I felt that we were together again–so much sincerity there) that I started doubting whether or not she even believed herself when she said she didn’t believe I was crazy. I just keep thinking how much of a handful I must have been and now with these relevations, how much more of an ass I could potentially be and how much love and patience a person would have to have in order to be in a relationship. When I think about it in that context, I am frightened for myself so why would someone on the outside not be afraid as well? Maybe Veronica had it right leaving me. I just may be a wrecking ball incapable of sustaining love. The last thing I want to do cause more pain for myself or someone else.