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.