Trying to take a nap, but I can't sleep. Drunk as fuck on half a bottle of wine, but it's not helping. I just wish I could not exist for a bit. The only way I can lose myself is to sleep. I stupidly slept with my ex tonight. Not the one I talk about constantly, just some guy I dated. I guess you could say I have a pathological longing for my ex-fiancée. She's the only one I ever connected with, ever. Why am I still typing?
The musings of a crazy lady from Hamilton, Ohio. "Madwoman in the attic" is a reference to the book "Jane Eyre," and our world where we try to silence and "lock away" the mentally ill.
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The last of my sanity
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