Admissions from a Broken Brain

I don't like to be cornered. I don't like not have options, but also constantly ignore options when they arise. I have a sick brain, but I'm working on it.

Last Summer, while I was parsing together my life prior to 2010, I had to go into Boston, chasing funding for school. I don't go into Boston. I don't use public transportation. I like the ability to leave whenever I like. I like to keep my options. So, when I had to go into Boston, I also had to take the commuter rail, the subway and a city bus. I didn't like it. My mind is broken and it likes to torture itself.

You're on the wrong bus/train.

This dialogue rattles in my head and it becomes physically exhausting. I want to lay down and curl into ball. Even when it's over, I'm still shook by travel. Being on a plane would drive me the fuck insane. I have a broken brain. Tonight, I stood outside a library in Tewksbury, MA, waiting for a ride home. I knew that I had a ride coming. I knew my brain was torturing, but I still had a mini-panic attack about how will I go home. Again, I have a broken brain.