Dear Me

Journal entries – Dear Me is a fight I had with myself today.

11-15-10     11:48am

Today’s show is brought to you by the letter F, as in flashbacks – the experience of re-experiencing something, usually something you prayed never to experience again. Splendid. Tomorrow’s show brought to you by the letter S, as in sarcasm.


Why am I wearing sequins? Ask me why I’m wearing sequins today. Because everyone will say I look beautiful and not ask how I feel. Actually, I thought they’d make me feel better. The brush-off is a secondary benefit. It’s not making me feel any better.

I wanted to walk to catch the bus to lunch. But I missed that window of upset energy. Too much FUCKING planning. Now I’m tired and want to sleep and cry. I posted on my FB “I can’t do this.” P- said, “Do what?” Does it really matter?

Dear Me,

Stop saving me. I don’t want to be saved. Ya hear? Why aren’t you listening? Why can’t you DO something? Paralyzed by pain and fear. I don’t want to be here.

Yes you do! You just want to be loved. And YOU can’t give that to me. You fucking failure.

ME? I keep you alive. Every fucking day you don’t want to go on and I pull you out or put you to sleep or find you whatever crazy food will distract you long enough. You are the failure you. You NEVER change.

That’s right. I’m the failure. Saving lives and managing crazy people EVERYWHERE I go is failing.

Yes. You’re not doing what you love. You are withering.

I’m not withering. I’ve already died.

Then why are you still fucking up my life? WHY do I keep having to save you? to find reasons for you to go on?

Because I don’t want to die.

Can we make up our minds? I thought you were already dead.

I am.

No you’re not.

Yes I am.

Then how are you writing?

It’s you that’s writing, remember? You’re the one who keeps saving me.

I hate you.

I hate you too.

I’m still hungry.


You’re on.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2010

2 thoughts on “Dear Me

  1. I’m glad that the one thing they can agree upon is pizza. Everyone loves pizza. Good distraction. A: “I HATE YOU!” B: “You wanna get some pizza? My treat.”
    A: *Perks up* “Okay!”

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