EIGHT
DAY TWELVE
Some days I want to tear my hair out. This is one of those days. Every second since I woke up, I’ve wanted to go back to bed. Not because I’m tired, I just want to bury my head under a pillow and forget about the shitshow that is Olympus.
It’s like there’s an axe swinging above me, like I’m lying under the guillotine blade. Maybe it’s just a crash because I’ve been so high for the past couple of days. I still put that down to getting out, breathing fresh air, and just being free. I try not to think about what happened when I was out there. Is this it hitting me now?
Talking to H and S, it gave me hope. No, not hope, it just… talking to an ally, a friend, it’s comforting. Makes me feel like I’m not alone. My vulnerabilities should’ve learned their lessons by now. I can’
