Yeah, I know it's a bit cliche to use that line by MPFC, but who is going to read this tripe, anyway? This blog is for me. I do admit, I wish someone would read it, but then again, I'd be afraid of what they might think. I would gladly offer myself up for observation, but then because I'm still so introverted, I'd think too much about what others thought about what I wrote. Anyhoo. Today I'm happy. Can you believe that? Yes, I said it, ME. I feel good today. Can I attribute it to the caffeine in the Diet Coke and coffee I drank this morning? Or some secret chemical in the so-called sugar-free cookies I ate? Or is it because I've successfully weaned off that huge dose of Paxil? Whatever, I don't care. It's great not to be suffocating under the heavy cloak of depression, or to be constantly ripped apart by anxiety.
Here are some things I have realized about myself, especially since I've had a child:
I try too hard to be liked. I take my life too seriously. I obsess about the past, probably as a buffer against the present. I do have a pretty good sense of humor, when I'm not trying.
I hate the way this makes me sound: like I'm so self-obsessed.
How do I change? I want to unwrap the tendrils that have cut me off from others, and kept me focused on myself. It's too lonely here, and I want to reach out. But it's scary.
