So I've been in serious hiding... Mood has been down, down, down.
And my thing is that I just don't want to have proof of how shitty I feel.
It's why I stopped writing in my diaries by hand, why I abandoned my livejournals, why I create and then hide or delete my blogs.
I *want* somewhere to express my self but it doesn't feel safe.
And then there is the fact that it is proof of my misery.
Maybe that's why I stopped writing poetry too - because my best poems came from my pain and when I am no longer here - what do I want people to remember about me?
That I was fucked up and miserable and mentally ill or would I rather have them remember me making them smile, or listening to them or whatever?
You know I deliberately make sure I look happy in pictures that I post.
Because that's what I want the world to see.
I don't want people to judge me as a welfare/headcase failure.
Or I don't want to judge myself through the eyes of the world that way.
Maybe that's what it is - that I still see myself through the eyes of strangers because those who know me and love me would be too kind, too forgiving.
Then again - it could all just be this fucking poisonous parrot inside my head.
Yes, I need to ignore it, or teach it to be kinder but those nasty birds are far-longer lived than many of the rest of us.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network