Well I have never used a blog let alone start one. All I do know is that I spend every day dreding the sunrise and praying for night to fall in on me. Twisted memories, fears and betrayls are constanly swimming through my mind. Each one of the pulling me down into an abyss that I know, want nothing more than to drown me. And as my fingers prune, my legs burn like fire from tredding in these moments that eternally haunt me, I think to myself, Im sick. Sick of feeling more than everyone around me, sick of seeing the world in a way that seems sane to me. But not to any other. I know that something isn't right, that I am not right. I see this in the faces of those i talk to, that my pretty face some how soothes them , that when my thoughts emerge from my mouth , at first them seem entertained, even interested. Then I speak more freely thinking that I am being like all others, and suddenly there faces change that look at me with blank expression, as though they are thinking about how to respond, as though maybe part of them has a lil insanity wishing to leap from their lips, to declare there insanity as well. But no, they withdraw, back to there safe little corner. I standing there in the blizzard of my thoughts, go back to my lonley state. Why in a room full of people I still feel utterly alone. As though no human could understand the feelings inside, that haunt me. I hate peope who say just let it go, or the dredded god doesnt give you more than you can handle. Ha, are you kidding? god, is a joke, no god that loves, would make something like me let alone put a human through my life. The mellow drama aside, Im a mother now, and I live in fear daily that my emotion, behavior and hurt will polute my daughter like a poison that will set into her soul, i fear that she will become like me. Im tired of feeling sad, and angry. That my moments of happiness are too few, and i find like joy in my life, I am trying. I just find myself awake in the middle of the night, and have to stay in my bed, because i will wake my whole family. I have the urge to write or draw or to be alone in my thought and cry, I wish more than anything I had another person to talk to, that trully understand this, not a head dr. a real person, I always feel alone.