how’d I get here?

I’ve been trying to make self write a blog for many years now. The main reason is to flush out in detail the reasons I’m not the real me. That’s an extremely uncomfortable part of who I am. I’m not comfortable being me. I’ve had an inner voice for as long as I can remember, she a real fucking bitch. She’s held me hostage for so long and refuses to give an inch about any thought I have that she doesn’t like. So, am I crazy? Maybe, sure, why not? Hell no one else in my life was really all that sane when I was growing up.
So this crazy bitch lives in my head, never voicing in words all the things I want to say, do or be. The biggest issues we fight are our belief in a God, any God, of any religion and whether she can ever allow us to trust a man again. On a good day we are agnostic, some days atheist, but never a definite answer.
Why is accepting love and friendship so hard to do?
This is why I’m writing stories. It’s going to be hard to put down the honest words in writing because I’m not completely sure which stories are true or my version of the truth (beautifully scripted lies to make me more interesting). That’s so fucked up because none of the shit I’ve survived needs to be colored differently.
I’ve spent years self psycho analyzing myself because I don’t trust therapists. They are the catalyst from my childhood as to why I don’t trust anyone in the psychiatric field now. I admit to believing I am smart enough to diagnose and treat myself. I’ve been doing it since 2000 when my marriage imploded. I hate putting labels on my problems, but I have such a laundry list it’s difficult not to.
For now I’m going to open the floodgates of my inner turmoil with random shit thrown in because I’m nothing if not a rambling nutter full of superfluous factoids of fun(at least to me!)
Thanks for sticking it out this far, more to come!


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