The problem

The problem

The problem with having so much happen in my life, that I think is worth sharing, is that I never end up sharing any of it. I guess I just need to start.

So I continue my intent on being as transparent as possible. As embarrassing as it has been at times, I selfishly feel the cathartic effects are healthy and healing.

I should say somewhere on this Blog that I have been diagnosed as having an Anxiety Disorder…. I hate that name. It isn’t sexy. A sexy Diagnosis would be Post Traumatic Stress or something no-one could hypothesize that I have a measure of responsibility for….. (haha – There are symptoms of my warped perspective in that very sentence….)

As a matter of fact, the Genesis of this blog was an attempt to bear myself so that I would have less to hide. I figured that if people saw me for who I was, I could then easily show my true personality. The shame of describing my present situation – or having it discovered – would be alleviated without me having to directly participate.

I am laughing as I realize that much of this is completely unimportant to most everyone, as they are busy protecting the shell-of-protection they have around their own lives.

Perhaps, somewhere, someway, someone will be helped by some-portion of my journey. For now, I will continue to develop my questionable writing skills and allow it to bear witness to the development of my dysfunction-spawned world-view.

:)