kaboom...

I'm the kind of person who can't keep her own secrets. I can keep other people's, but never my own. Why? I have to talk to someone about what's going on inside my head. The bad things about that are:

...what happens when you can't find any words?
...who do you go to when you don't know what to say?
...how do you call someone when you're too afraid to dial--after all, what if they actually pick up?

I'll try what my English teacher suggests: word vomit, meaning writing every word that comes to mind to eventually get to the main idea.

I'm upset because
...every time I finally feel comfortable somewhere, everything changes and I have to start all over again.
...I hate the helpless feeling I get when I hear my sisters talk about their friend who killed himself last week, and I hate the fear I feel when they don't talk but you can see all over their faces what they're thinking about.
...there's too much to learn and not enough time to become good at everything.
...people are thoughtless. I am, too.
...I'm so awkward, and I feel like people don't think I'm being sincere when I really and truly am.
...being in pain for a week and a half is not easy to live with (it makes me ache for the people who have to deal with it every single day of their lives).
...no matter what I do, I still look and feel the same.
...I'm suddenly faced with great uncertainty in where I stand at work, and I'm afraid to approach my boss and ask about it because I'm afraid of what she'll say.
...I cannot for the life of me find my paycheck (with my W2 in it that costs $10 to replace).
...no one has really hugged me in days, which is weird because I usually don't like to be touched.
...school is boring. It's kind of a let down, actually.
...I'm selfish. I don't know how to change it, either.
...I'm never going to be good enough.
...writing to my missionary friends is getting harder and harder to do, not because I can't make time, but because (once again) I don't know what to say.
...Molly is naughty on purpose to get attention. Irritating.
...things from my past keep coming to mind, things that hurt or frighten me or make me feel so ashamed of myself. All are things I thought I'd gotten over, but I can't let them go.
...my room is messy, my laundry isn't done, and my homework isn't finished. Each my fault. Each beyond my capacity to complete right now...or at least beyond desire.
...I really, really, really dislike being told how I think. How the heck should anybody know how I think? I don't care how many degrees you have. Do not tell me how I think about the world.
...I'm so afraid of people. I can't even talk to the people I trust because I'm afraid of them.

...explosion in progress...

*kaboom*