11-04-21 This day has been redacted
I am caught in a nightmare… this is my release, my therapy that costs around a dollar a day rather than $200 an hour. Everything I go to write, every thought processed tonight earns a backspace key on repeat. My ability to be me is fueled by my ability to leave things in the moment. I rarely carry a grudge, seldom give up on anyone and am straight forward. Perhaps my biggest problem is that I try not to say anything about you to anyone else that I wouldn’t say to your face and sometimes that creates a tornado of honesty that isn’t always welcomed. I want to talk about at least 3 major issues in the last 12 hours but nothing good will come of it because some readers will have the need to share my thoughts. I cannot purge lest I open myself up to more… see can’t even touch the subject…
No need to read between the lines, no need to guess where fault lies… no blame, only solutions. Yeah, that mantra is wearing thin. I find myself, all day, questioning whether I am fit for the public. I think that I may be becoming a fearful combination of Howard Hughes and Greta Garbo… ‘I vant to be alone”. This month is full of much public volunteer time but then I can slink into the shadows and finish producing, balance the books and fulfill my time until my commitments are done.
What an ironic day to pick up the 25 buttons I ordered from a local to give out to people who need them most. It’s a shame I didn’t have them with me yesterday at the hospital. I need one staring me in the face at the moment… Or maybe that is what I am doing, being kind and quiet. Holy Chic Art + Design makes lovely things and she stuck an awesome sticker in that she has no idea how much it means today especially. I put it on the wall by my door so I see it on the way out.
triumphgal 