I've drafted this post so many times. I've re-written it and scrapped it. I've read it over, seeing a jumble of words and crazy thinking on display. I've told myself that the very act of publishing this would be a self-indulgent addition to an already noisy blogosphere only to come back here again. Call me self-indulgent.

The internet is a place where we either share too much or conceal what's convenient because it's either too frustrating to keep quiet or too difficult to own up to reality. The reason I don't want to clutter up a newsfeed with humblebrags is the same reason I don't want to document a breakdown. I don't want to have my current emotions/decisions from winter 2014 cached for eternity, where people can speculate or get some sort of sick pleasure from making fun of me. I don't want whatever negative consequences come with putting myself out there but I also have no idea what else to do anymore except write...so I find myself here, doing one of the few things that still makes sense to me. 

It didn't always make sense, in fact when I was younger, I used to keep a diary but I never wrote about bad experiences because I didn't want to acknowledge them. I thought that if I didn't pay attention to them, I could get past them quicker, or even nullify their existence completely. I feel like everyone is doing the same thing publicly nowadays, me included. Maybe we don't want to be buzzkills or look weak. I think everyone is just simply trying to highlight the good and minimize the bad which is completely logical even though it may create the false sense of everyone being ok, or fantastic even. I guess I grew up thinking that any complicated or painful matters should be settled in private because it's respectful and, what good can come from pouring out our guts to anyone who'll listen? I mean, I don't want to sit here and talk about issues on the internet when I'd rather ignore it and pretend that I'm fine but I also know that that's the exact attitude which brought me to this point.