Honestly.

I really don't know what to write in here sometimes. I have a lot to say, a lot that I'm feeling and going through and wanting to share, but not a way to do it. I can't write about work on here (as learned by one Heather B. Armstrong at dooce.com), I can't write too much personal stuff, but think I need to find a way around that.

I'm publishing a zine in one of my classes. I was a little more excited about it before than I am now, because now the work is creeping up on me and it's a little scary. Also, we didn't get as many submissions as I wish we had gotten. That sucks.

There's a story I turned in to my professor because we had something due, but I explained that it is absolutely NOT something that I could ever publish online at this juncture. It's about Emily's dad. I didn't know it was going to be written, but it was and it's honest. However, honestly, I'm learning that I need to be more careful with what I put out there. I'm considering deleting my facebook, I never use my myspace, and I'm getting a little sick of the whole public social networking thing. And then, when I'm super bored I sit back and think that I'm going crazy in a very real way if I'm actually considering deleting my facebook account.

Which brings it down to this. The theme of the post. Honestly, I have been going a little crazy. Quietly, slowly, calmly crazy. Not out loud, except for the brief outbursts at whoever pisses me off with whatever little thing when the wind blows northwest at 4.9 miles an hour. Then the wind changes direction and I'm not angry anymore, and I obsess about the oversharing I've probably done and then I wonder why I can't just update my damn blog. There have been doctor visits regarding this elusive pain in my head, which they think is a nerve/muscle/stress thing. I have an entire pharmacy on my kitchen counter and am only taking one thing, Neurontin. Some anti-seizure medication that apparently helps with nerves.

I'm trying to suck up the courage to call the doctor and admit that I think I have some head stuff going on that I need some help with. That for me is so ridiculously difficult. I've been reading Dooce.com for years and have so much respect for her candor and honesty. And I sit here and wonder why I can't do that. I want to share a story that doesn't often get shared and I want to be able to be honest about what's going on with me. And I think that's part of the problem: that honesty is terrifying. I'm the person who is always, always fine. Always there to help whenever I can, always available for a phone call and always willing to drop everything to be ok. And lately, I have nothing. No more to give. And, honestly (word over-use, I know) I don't care. I don't care that I can't be everything for everyone. I don't want to be. I don't want to change my life, I don't want to change what I'm doing, things I'm trying to do with my daughter so that I can give her a different life. This post is going nowhere, because my head is a mindfuck.

I've always been a little scared of going public. What are the ramifications of all of that? Who could I hurt? What could happen? I'm not trying to out-Dooce anyone, in any way. But I need to be a little more open. I'm trying to find the balance between my being able to be open without hurting those who don't need to be hurt. I'll find it, and then I'll update more.

Who loves Glee?