letting someone in, means abandoning the walls you've spent your whole lifetime building.

Izzie: "I feel like... I'm moving in slow motion. Like I’m moving in slow motion and everything around me is moving so fast and I just wanna go back... to when things were normal... when I wasn’t poor Izzie laying on the bathroom floor in her prom dress with her... her dead fiancé. But I am, so I can’t. And I’m.. just stuck. And there’s all this pressure cause everyone’s hovering around me waiting for me to do something or say some thing or flip out or yell or cry some more and I’m happy to play my part. I’m happy to say the lines and do what ever it is that I’m supposed to be doing if it will make everyone feel more comfortable... but I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be this person. I don’t know who this person is."

I've done something I shouldn't have, but it wasn't on purpose for any particular reason. It just suddenly hit me that maybe it was a wrong move, though small, all I've done is to only lay out a long long route of slow torture for myself. That nauseating feeling in the stomach is all too familiar, and it's something I've grown pretty much accustomed to. It makes my insides churn, it makes me want to retch, it scares the hell out of me.

And I've told you, and I want to tell you straight in the face. I don't like this, I don't like it at all. Still tired, very very much tired. Waking up in the mornings are just, nothing but torturous anymore. Don't make me test myself on how long I could hold out. It's either my heart could stop beating or my head could just explode, whichever is fine with me.