My roommate told me tonight...

That he thinks I'm mentally ill....I need to go to a doctor and get help.

Interesting...for what? PTSD? Done it...there is no cure. There is no FUCKING drug that will take that away. Well there is but that drug numbs you so you can't see if he's coming.

Even when he's dead and buried it won't go away. He is always behind me with a hand on my shoulder telling me what a piece of shit I am.

I'm working through it really slowly. It takes a few years to get over some one trying to kill you...many times.

I'm starting to love music again. Can you imagine listening to music you hated 24/7 for a decade? Every thing I loved he hated. I actually liked his music for the first two years, it get's old after five years. He use to pawn my CD's for money when I was at work. I use to hide them but he would always find them. I had no music.

My friends started sending me music after he was gone. It's taken me a long time to figure out what I like. What I like will piss him off...but he's not here.

I wish people could understand how it feels. That's why I started this blog. Domestic Violence.

I can type all I want to but it will never explain it.

One good note from my therapist. "Never divulge what you have to other people."

Okay...I'll just live like a freak show on the inside.