I'm in a really dark place this week.

I don't know why, but I'm pretty sure my mother's behind it. She usually is.

You know what? I saw a picture of a "daffodil" (I always thought it was a buttercup until my lovely girlfriend proved me wrong, shh, don't tell her I admitted that!) but, yes, I saw a picture of a daffodil on the internet today, and I was thinking about my childhood.

My grandma and I planted those; I watched them grow every year, and I always picked the first one of the year and gave it to her.

I dream about leaving my home and family, about running from those memories. If I throw them all away, I lose the good with the bad.

.... I decided I'd rather forget everything instead of remembering the all the horrors. The good can only cancel out so much... I can live without the good memories. It's the bad ones that are driving me over the edge.