When I posted last week about my bad day, I had a couple of people wondering why I don't talk about these things in real life. Here's why:
I'm bad with words, in real time. And I'm worse with understanding and putting words to my emotions.
Writing here is not simply a safe place, though that's part of it. It's also a place where I can take the time to sort through what I feel, and what I have felt, and find the proper words to explain myself. Writing opens my brain, allows me to analyze myself in ways that are simply impossible when I'm in the moment. When I am struggling, my instinct is to do whatever I have to in order to get through the day. It's not until later, when I have a quiet moment, that I am able to work through why I'm struggling.
In other words, I'm just not good at understanding what goes on in my own head. What you read here on those occasions is the result of self-analysis. It's not that I don't want to talk about these things out loud, or that I'm afraid to. I simply can't.
So, there's your annoyingly long explanation. Here's a cute picture of Miles to make up for it. :)
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