Feral Fog

This bush that I am in. It is feral. 

I have moments of absolute clarity, though the moods change often, and that changes the thought process.

I feel prepared and capable of dealing with everything.

Then, I just feel inadequate, ugly, incapable, insufficient, under-prepared and awful. I feel like a blob. 

I am running my second periods of the year, and they have just begun. I feel like a leech, and yet there is secret glee I feel in driving home the point of how wrong things are. I let him know everytime I change my pad. He must know. 

I despise myself more than I despise her and I despise him more than I despise her. 

"Will things never be okay again?"

I don't say but my mind chuckles at how quickly he wants normalcy to return.