Today I starting reading a story that I knew was about topics that I don't want to think about. I thought I could handle it and that I've separated myself enough. It was not a good decision. I challenge myself all the time because I hate the idea of spending my life suffering for something that wasn't my fault. I read things and watch things to prove to myself that I'm not affected anymore and that I'm in control, because I refuse to give in to the idea that the terrible moments of my past can govern my thoughts and feelings for the rest of my life. I get called a robot and I get told that I don't have any feelings. I never feel angry, I never feel excited; I never feel anything strongly. I'm numb, and I've worked really hard to be that way. I feel strong and composed and intellectualized. I never tell anyone about my past because it was all so long ago and I've worked hard to build myself this life and I've earned it, damn it. I don't want people to look at me and only see my history. So I read this story and recognized myself in how the main character copes with similar trauma, and I don't like it. I can see it for what it is when it's about someone else. I don't feel strong right now. I can see how I'm broken and how I'll never really be fixed. And all I take from it is that I wish I hadn't read it, and I know that's not the healthiest response. All I can do right now is write this down where no-one I know will find it and try to put myself back together for tomorrow. Tomorrow I need to be myself again: assertive, confident, direct, in control. And most importantly, intellectualized. I think; I don't feel.