After it happened last night, I was so afraid to be outed that, honestly, I had an idea about wandering into ongoing traffic and ending it all.

Right now, as I type this, I'm still thinking she could out me.  All the criminal texts. ...  I want to go out and enjoy the day, but I'm scared as hell she'll find me.  So should I just stay cooped up inside, in my house ... where she could still find me anyway?  I fear a knock on the door from her, or her druggie boyfriend.

I calmed down a bit after walking, which I needed.  But I still sent out a bunch of messages, casting about for safety, for approval.  I regret some of them now.  There is one who is a lawyer, for example.  But, just to cover my ass -- again, who knows how she'll get to me -- I think I'll disclose some things to him.  Oh yeah, I should talk to my therapist, too.

Maybe I should have just went up, told her she misrepresented herself, gave her money, then told her never to talk to me ever again.  She's been a pest for a long time, and this way would have told her not to contact me anymore.  But if she wanted money -- well, that would have been a small price to pay in order to get her to leave me alone for good.

Shouldn't have deleted her texts, either.  I regret that now, too.  But she was threatening me!  That's my go-to defense mechanism, and now I have no way to offer proof of my side.  Meanwhile, she has all the texts I sent her.  She has my license plate, too, and I'm scared to death she'll find me.  Bitch is fucking crazy.

Maybe not giving her money is better.  If I did, she'd just ask for more ... or else she'll tell on me.  Maybe that's why I need to admit the truth.  Truth will set you free, you know?  That's what I told myself last night.  And even though I came to the quick realization I was fucked no matter what I did, I stopped having the idea I should run into the street to escape it all, either.

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I'm being vague about this, I know.  Let's just say that my, uh, hobby has blown up in my face.