I’m experiencing this thing called wondering how honest I’m allowed to be with people.  I mean, am I even allowed to talk about what goes on in my dark mind on my blog anymore?  Am I allowed to tweet that I’m feeling a little down?  Can I announce that sometimes I go a little manic?

I think anxiety is getting to me.  But forget that I’m saying this at all, because I don’t want to talk about it.  I don’t want you to say anything.  And even worse, I don’t want you to tiptoe around me.  But I need to get it off my chest.  I feel like I haven’t breathed in a week.  I’m not sure if I have a migraine, or if I just am afraid I’m getting one, so I think I have one.  I’m feeling a little alone, a little abandoned, a little betrayed, and my ability to trust any plans at all seems to have never come back.

I really want to be alone, but I don’t want anyone to worry.  At the same time, it’d be nice if I could get a good hug so maybe I could have a good cry.  Maybe I should take a several hour shower.

I think the biggest reason I’m afraid to say anything, is because the last time I felt anything everyone freaked out and tried to carry my burden and almost pushed me over the edge.  I don’t want to be anywhere near the edge.  This is my cross to bear.  This is my burden to carry.  And you can’t lift it anyway.