Can't sleep

It's almost 1 am and I can't sleep. Not surprised. I'm an insomniac. I usually take medication for it, but for a while didn't really need it. But, with all that's gone one lately and what with reading tons of posts on friend's blogs, my brain is all a jumble.

(name has been starred out for privacy's sake)

>I am afraid that if I talk about my heart or my dreams or my fears that I will be rejected. That >you wont like "that" ******. Insecurities are funny that way. But who am I really writing for? >Who am I afraid of? The truth is I need to write like I need to breathe. I need an outlet, a place >to express and explore what I am feeling and seeing. I think sometimes I may have to write >what is on my heart if it it doesn't tell the best story. I am learning that I don't need to write so >that you understand me, I need to write so that I understand myself....

This was written in a post by a friend I haven't seen in a long time...years. It seems as though, for the time being, other people are able to say for me what I can't figure out to say for myself. Earlier in her post, this friend described how she loved to write; used it as an outlet. That was me in highschool. I'd write and write until my wrist ached and I could barely hold the pencil. I had notebooks full of disjointed paragraphs and half finished thoughts. I could hardly hold a thought in my head long enough to write it down sometimes.

But, since I left highschool (and got on anti depressants and mood stabilizers) it seems that creativeness has left. I'm hoping this blog will help me rediscover that.

If you read that post excerpt again, you can maybe understand part of the reason I haven't given my blog address to any of my friends. A couple of them know my past better than my own mother, but there's still that fear that the inner workings of my mind will freak them out. Hell, it freaks me out sometimes.

But, I'm not posting to please anyone. I have a fear that people will leave, but it's not like that'd be something new. I need to write in order to get some of this junk out of my brain and maybe find out that it's not so insane. I suppose, if she, my friend, can write out what she has for all her friends to see, then I can try and be as brave and do the same.

dreamer