Sometimes blogging is a very lonely thing to do. You spill your heart out for everyone to see in the hopes that it helps you and the reader, but you seldom get feedback to know if others ever feel the same. You just have to assume they do.
Tonight is very painful. So I’m writing. It helps me clear my mind. Do you ever hurt and not know why? I do. Sometimes I think it’s a curse to feel so deeply. Sometimes I wish I didn’t care so much. I know it will pass…the painful part. But I know too it will surface again. I know who I am. I know who I am maybe better than most people know about themselves. I know how I am made. I am Van Gogh without the paints and I am Robin Williams without the brilliance. I am Sylvia Plath without her words and I am Georgia O’Keefe without her vision. I am a prisoner to my sensitivities and I just have to accept these moments when they come and know that they will pass.