(no subject)

People tell me 'a' and 'b'
They tell me how I have to see
Things that I have seen already clear
So they push me then from side to side
They're pushing me from black to white
They're pushing'til there's nothing more to hear

But don't push me to the maximum
Shut your mouth and take it home
'cause I decide the way things gonna be

I want out... to live my life alone
I want out... leave me be
I want out... to do things on my own
I want out... to live my life and to be free

Rowan, Crys, and Mika are already aware of the meltdown that occurred last night. For eight years I've kept the locks on the hysteria and fear that drives a lot of my reactions and needs, convinced that it'd either do no good to let Megan see the madness that hides behind my eyes... or more likely, that it'd just give her yet another tool against me. I've kept it hidden, counting (foolishly) on some basic core of humanity within Megan to keep her from pushing me over the edge.

It didn't. That 'basic core' doesn't seem to exist. I don't believe it to be spiteful... it just turns out that her mind is even more badly defective than mine.
I ... went to pieces last night. She penned me in the kitchen of the apartment and cornered me and wouldn't relent... and got to meet the gibbering lunatic face to face for the very first time. The people two floors up and on the other side of the building were able to quote parts of what I was warbling; vocal control evaporated along with everything else (oddly, the fight itself didn't earn more than a shrug... it was the four plus octaves my voice was covering. The guy said it sounded like someone with a steampipe organ was trying to play Pachelbel while drunk...). I... it's been over 24 hours now; I'm still ... oddly clearheaded. Almost echo-ey, if that makes any sense. What remains to be seen is whether ANY of the lessons she learned last night will stick; in the past, any comprehension/understanding has evaporated within 72 hours. None of which really matters to most of the folk that read here. They'll never have cause to try to deliberately drive me insane, and will never see the flip side of the coin. It's mostly here as a note for the handful of local folk, so they'll understand why I look like I've not slept in two weeks. And why I sound 'like a grandfather clock winding down' when I talk. And why I've had to pull my glasses out to have ANY chance of reading or driving.

And why I'll determinedly change the subject and/or walk away if this gets brought up in person. I simply can't handle it face to face... there's enough distance here that I can trust myself to be rational.

September 15. Provided I get there, I may throw the mother of all parties to celebrate. Someone'll have to commit to making sure I end up in my bed. Alone. Unless the person(s)' really cute. And clean. But other than that...