the emperor's new clothes

my first instinct is to grab a cigarette, light up, and breathe in some sanity, even though i quit smoking a year and a half ago.

i'm scared shitless. old habits come calling at my door like a long lost friend needing a place to stay for the night and it's hard to turn them away.

i wanna run. i wanna crawl so far into myself that everyone knows i'm ignoring them and leaves me alone. i'd drink myself to sleep, but i hate the puking part. meds and alcohol don't mix. i wanna spend money on stuff i don't need til i'm so far in over my head that it overwhelms me and i shut down completely and quit caring.

sometimes numbness feels more comfortable than newness.

i know i'm supposed to put on the clothes of a child of the King, but right now i feel like the emperor with his new clothes only to find out i'm standing naked in front of God and everyone.

i feel like i need to shed a little more "weight" before the new clothes will really fit. it will require much more of me than exercise or eating right, sacrificing a pint of Ben and Jerry's is easy compared to what's being asked of me.

TRUST

god i hate that word. the very thing i expect others to give to me, the very thing i give the least.

i feel like Lazarus, walking out of the tomb after being dead for days. i had started to rot, and no amount of perfume soaked rags that were still hanging from me can cover the stench. and i certainly don't want anyone trying to help me! i wanna clean myself up. so i try. yet there are still some death rags clinging to me in places i can't reach on my own. i don't wanna mess up the new clothes, so i wanna get completely clean before putting them on.

so i'm walking around naked, with a few rags hanging here and there. finding it hard to trust someone to strip off the rest of these old rags. feeling raw and naked.