I realize that on here a person can be who ever they want to be. We only have to reveal that which we feel safe in revealing. This means that the persona that someone portrays here, may not be the one they are out in the real world. I ask myself if who I portray to be here, on My life interrupted, is the real me?
For the most part, yes, this is the real me that you “see” here. This is my way of recording my life’s interruptions. But if I’m really honest there are parts of me I hold back. All for various reasons…my family and friends read this and there are things they don’t know about me…but for the most part, what it comes down to is this. I want to be liked and accepted and I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.
So sometimes, I am ashamed to tell you who I really am.
Because, not always but…
Sometimes, I don’t think you would like me if you knew everything there is to know about me.
Sometimes, I want everything to stop.
Sometimes, I just want peace and quiet.
Sometimes, I still want to be invisible.
Sometimes I miss getting to do what I want and sometimes I want to be selfish.
Sometimes, I don’t recognize the person looking back at me in the mirror.
Sometimes, it feels like I am getting the life sucked out of me.
Sometimes, I want to scream, “What the hell?” when I see how some people act.
Sometimes, I don’t want to be responsible.
Sometimes, I swear.
Sometimes, I am don’t want to be a nice person.
Sometimes, I am a hypocrite, because I fail to walk the talk.
Sometimes, I care way too much.
Sometimes, I miss my older kids and grandchildren so much that my heart physically hurts.
Sometimes, I cry when I pray.
Sometimes, I doubt what I know to be true.
Sometimes, what I have to say, would not make any sense to you because it barely makes sense to me.
Sometimes, I don’t want to stay straight and even after 25 years of being drug free still think about using once in a while.
Sometimes, getting someone to understand me, is too much work so I don’t even try.
Sometimes, when I watch the news, and hear about someone dying, I am jealous, and I don’t know why.
Sometimes, I am still afraid of my father and my brother.
Sometimes, I still let fear control my life.
Sometimes, I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
Sometimes, the things going through my mind, scare me.
Sometimes, I am tempted to tell all my secrets just so I don’t have to carry them all by myself.
Sometimes, I don’t want to tell you what I believe, because I fear you will judge me.
Sometimes, I still want to hide under my bed or in my closet.
Sometimes, I don’t know what I believe about God.
Sometimes, I really do believe I am a mistake and have to prove that I am not.
Sometimes, fear of rejection keeps me from being authentic.
Sometimes, in giving myself away, I forget to keep some for myself.
Sometimes, I don’t want to leave my house. And I don’t, for days.
Sometimes, even though I can give or take alcohol, I drink too much, on purpose, just to numb the pain.
Sometimes, I want to throw in the towel with my work comp. case and not go to my doctor appointments.
Sometimes, I look at my little people and wonder if what we are doing is really making a difference or if we are just fooling ourselves.
Not always, but sometimes…
Love & Hugs, Lori