I regularly choose to share things about myself and my life in this space that others might choose to keep private.
This is a place for me to say the things I want to.
To bring awareness to the issues that I think are important.
To speak up and speak out.
And to help others do the same.
But there are many things that I do not share.
For no other reason than because I don’t want to. These are things that I hold close and want to keep personal; parts of me that I don’t want all over the internet.
The division of private and public is east for me.
So a couple of weeks ago when I found myself faced with something I wanted to blog about, something I needed to blog about, something I wrote draft after draft about, I couldn’t because I felt it was too private.
And I was embarrassed.
I was angry, confused, irritated, and annoyed.
I had been to an appointment with my doctor and received a new diagnosis.
I’m having a hard time with it.
I don’t want to write the words and that’s why it’s taken me awhile to write about it.
I’m feeling like I’m a walking headcase.
One mental illness after the other….
But at least when it was PPD or depression I always believed there was an end in sight.
I am feeling a little hopeless right now.
Feels so permanent.