A good lass.

And she is but it feels like part of me dies whenever she asks for a hug.  I'm sure it would help if I told her this but I'm too busy dissociating.

But as a friend once said 'A friend with weed is better'.  Luscious addictive black x.  I just wish we could just relax and go with it but were both all rigid with PTSD and self consciousness.  Add sexual tension and I start to feel pretty fucking overwhelmed by the old feelings of trying to act normal with someone directly after they had raped and/or tortured me.  Grim.

The deaths in the family have made me feel much more secure that's things have changed enough.  Its great to have a place to say that.  My mum and Gran said they are crying all the time.  Alkysis is still drinking.  The whole going to watch her dad die and then come home to a messed up house, two hungry preschoolers and a drunken daughter makes it hard to hate my mother with the same semi repressed gusto.  I'm glad I'm not her.  Not too likly I will spending much time at side of my dad's death bed.  Quick 'See ya' will do me. 

   

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