My thoughts are conflicted. I want to share my problems. And I’d like to tell my parents. Somehow.
If I’d like to sit them down. And tell them face to face. If I should email them a link to my blog. And ask when they have time to read it, and have me over to discuss my options.
Should I involve them. Should I even tell them?
Everyone lives in there own world. They do not need my issues, or my pain, or my past haunting them.
I wanted to keep it all to myself. And never tell anyone. And live my life as if it never happened.
But since I can’t. Its hurting me. And I want to get help.
But I still don’t want to interrupt the haply go lucky lives of others. I want to be remembered by my smile. Not my past. I want to be defined by who I am right now. The girl that made it, I live on my own, handling adult life as it rolls at me, needing a therapist, but willing to see one. Fully prepared to get the help I so desperately need!
I want to feel better. I want this weight lifted from my shoulders.
But, I still have those thoughts. I should keep it all to myself. Still. And leave everyone be.
But then. I’m alone. Again.
Its time, I need to tell my parents. I need them to want to help. I desperately need them to WANT to help.
(Yes. I had to put that twice on purpose)
This is my week. To turn my life upside down, and start reliving my memories, so I may fix my problems.