I started blogging because my therapist told me too. Well actually she told me to write in a diary but I’m not 13 anymore and I think Lisa Frank stopped being manufactured after 1998 .
I have a fear or more accurately a fucking phobia of showing people any sign of weakness within me. I’m perfect actually. That’s why losing my vision has been so fucking insane for me. Now everyone knows I’m week. It shows so damn clearly on the outside.
Well now I’m putting it all out there with this blog. I said, fuck it. But I haven’t fucked shit. This is my secret blog. No one knows about it because if they did they would know me & That’s fucking terrifying.
I don’t want to talk to people about the shit that I write here. That’s why I’m writing it and not yentaing all over Jersey. Writing a post lessons my brain tension. Like it’s out of my head and into the universe and I can possibly breathe easier. I have very anal organizational skills and I just can’t with the thoughts ricocheting around my head. I need it to come out. So I’ve been toying around with the idea of sharing this blog with my best best best friends and I guess everyone else.
The thing about it is I won’t have to talk about it anymore if they just read this. But do I really want them to read this? And at what point in my ever stupid life am I going to stop giving a fuck if people know about the imperfect shit.