The Living Centrifuge

I think I'm losing it again. I should probably go back to my therapist. I'm such a gigantic gigantic phony. I feel so lost and helpless and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to survive on my own. I am strenuously avoiding everything. I'm even avoiding writing this right now. I'm avoiding dealing with the fact that I'm hurt by the Ben thing still and it appears to have interrupted my ability to get close to anyone. Anyone. I'm avoiding going back to dance. I'm avoiding getting my apartment ready for sale. I'm avoiding looking for a job. I'm avoiding transitioning into an independent human being. I'm avoiding discussing the financial plan with my father. I'm avoiding my mother. And I'm avoiding ....I don't know. I don't know what type of help I want, and I'm avoiding asking for any help at all because I think I'm already such a needy useless sack of flesh that asking for any more aid from those around me will confirm for them the fact that I'm a gigantic emotional black hole and they need to avoid me at all costs.
I was on such a positive wave for so long, I guess this crash was inevitable, but it's not without its merits. If this is temporary, I'll look at this in a few months and be mystified. I need to somehow be able to investigate this state more fully and with more respect, as opposed to just trying to get out of it. Maybe then I'll be able to address the crap that's causing it. The fact that I'm still a screeching infant, when it all comes down to it, and I'm just terrified that someone is going to figure out that I have no life skills whatsoever