Bared

I don't know what made me do that.
It's so not me. To open up and bare my soul to you requires much courage. The risk. All my deepest fears, thoughts and feelings...they are usually buried. "So how? Damage control?" you asked. But it's already out of control. I had just given up whatever I had left.

I try to understand my own mind, to think in a more logical way. Yes, to stop torturing myself. To stop taking the slightest thing and evaluate it according to my own (forever negative) perception. It doesn't seem to be working. It eludes me.

And so, I feel like a meat on the butcher's chopboard now.