So I told my therapist about this blog today. Not sure that’s the right word for it, but whatever. I didn’t tell her the name or anything, just that it exists and what I tend to use it for.
She’s the only person in my life who knows about it. I haven’t even told my best friend.
I guess it’s nice to have something for myself. A place to go where I won’t be ignored, where at least a few people read what I have to say and get it. Or just find it the least bit interesting.
A place where the people who care about me will never go. Where everything I feel that would scare them is locked away.
I wish I didn’t need this. I wish I didn’t need therapy or antidepressants. I wish I could go back and have a second chance at starting my life.
But I do need this blog. I need it more than I ever imagined. I need to know that my words mean something to someone other than me. I need to feel just a little less alone.
I need this blog to survive the moments when anxiety overwhelms me and everything seems pointless. When the past only hurts and the future is full of loss.