Everybody has their own demons they need to deal with, I understand that. Some are bigger than others and depending on the person, some you just wouldn't know are there. Well that's me. You may read my diary sometimes and think, "oh Wow! This woman is so negative. She's miserable. Why can't she just get on with things?" But ironically if you met me I'm completely different than how I may come across in my diary. You see this is the ONLY place I'm truly honest to the world, including being honest with myself. This diary is the only place I can rant or let out any immediate emotions I may have. To the outside and if you ever, ever met me, you really wouldn't have a clue about what I've been through. I just don't tell anyone.
I'm upbeat, I'm jokey and smiley, I'm a warm, loving person who puts everyone else first. I'm always reaching out to others and being kind, offering them a shoulder to cry on. I'm a supportive friend who embraces the joy of making others feel good all of the time. I'm the one my friends call when they have a problem or just need to cry. I'm the one who listens and helps fix things if they ask for help. Because that's what I do. That's who I am. That's the person I portray to the outside world. It's just the way I'm programmed now.
If I didn't have my diary I'd probably be in a looney bin.
I don't talk to anyone about what's going on in my life. Even DH hasn't got a clue about my inner thoughts or emotions. I'm this strong, stoic woman who focuses on bringing joy to others. Making my husband, family and friends feel good. I don't cry and I don't know why? I haven't cried about this last miscarriage and yet this recent one has really messed with my head. All I can see is that picture of the last ultrasound scan of the baby fully formed with arms, legs, body, head just floating there with no heartbeat. Clear as a whistle. It's actually haunting me.
Maybe if I cried I wouldn't stop. There's probably far too much emotion that's been bottled up for too long I may just explode!
I'm also getting frustrated reaching out to others now. Despite what's going on in my life and the underlying torment. I'm offering shoulders and trying to be supportive to people who just kind of throw it back in your face. I'm wondering why I'm bothering? No one does it for me anymore because I don't vocalise what I've been or what I'm going through.
Maybe I think that they won't be interested. Maybe I think that I'm really not that important. Maybe I was put on this earth just to fix others?
Maybe I actually need people to want to fix me for a change, without me having to tell them I need fixing. Does that make sense?
I dunno! I'm just waffling and ranting in my diary like I usually do. Although that last sentence has brought a tear to my eye. Wow! That must've hit a nerve. Maybe I'm not an emotionless robot after all.
I'm alone in my thoughts. I really do feel alone.
I can't express enough how this diary and the wonderful ladies who occasionally send me messages keep spuring and sending their love get me through each day. You are the only ones who know my story.
My friends, family and husband don't know the inner me and my real thoughts and emotions.
I really am a completely different person than my diary sometimes portrays. Am I lying to the world and to myself? No, because I AM that caring, upbeat, joyful, happy, smiley friend. But sometimes, just sometimes, I need that hug myself.
Thanks diary for being my wonderful release.
