My moods are all over the place. One minute I’m bouncing around, planning a trip to Sri Lanka and Indonesia, then two minutes later I’ve got that paperweight in my chest and just want to go to sleep.

I am heavily self-censoring because I no longer know who is reading this. I tell myself that it shouldn’t matter who’s reading it, that it’s my own space, but it does matter. I no longer feel I can say whatever I’m thinking. It’s a vicious circle – if I create a private space to express, to cry out, to rejoice, to be silly, to be me, I write knowing that somebody will read it. I need to know there is a connection with the world outside of my own head… But nobody will see it unless I tell them where to find it… and once I think that people may be reading it, I no longer feel I can be entirely true to myself in what I write.

I feel simultaneously elated by the good things in my life and devastated by others. I seem to love and trust far too easily, and this is always, ALWAYS punished. I did a very basic personality analysis today and it told me that ‘There may be a tendency for you to be too exacting and demanding of yourself. In this regard, you may at times sacrifice yourself (or your loved ones) for the welfare of others. In some cases,you may have trouble distinguishing helping from interfering.‘  This  is the story of my life. I am attracted to disaster, with a deep desire to mend, to fix, to nurture something or someone back to health, inevitably pushing my own well-being into second place in the process.I did it at 15, I’m still doing it at 34, and I seem to never learn. But similarly, ironically, conversely, I berate myself for it. When did caring cease to be a quality and become a flaw? Where do you draw the line?

Why do I never remember the wonderful things that I know people have said about me? I may remember that they said something lovely and kind, but I forget the most important part – the essential message in their encouragement and love. And yet… the hurtful words, even the ones I know not to be true, are the ones ringing in my ears when I try to sleep?

3 thoughts on “Manic

  1. “I am heavily self-censoring because I no longer know who is reading this.”
    That is why I shut down my RR blog. It could not be what I wanted it to be. I really should write in my other blog because there I know I can write exactly how I feel, what is happening etc.
    We could set up a private blog if you wanted and you can then restrict access? You could even have it open to no-one so you could just write.

    And please do take care of yourself – you are very worth it.

  2. You’re such a little love bundle 🙂 Thank you P, you always come running to my rescue 🙂 I might take you up on that offer… Or maybe I can just password protect this page, like you’ve done with yours? xx

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