I was re-reading my posts and wanted to make it clear that I did not choose to write this blog as a way to indulge in self-pity or moan and complain. This is a way to make one part of my reality in some way visible... to have my voice.
When I'm walking or driving around town I often look at all the pretty houses and well kept yards, and I think how lucky those people are to have what they have. How happy they must be behind those doors, with their families and comfort and peace.
But I don't know they're happy, any more than anyone realizes how unhappy I am. For all I know they are feeling some of the same things I am. For all I know they are just as invisible as me. I suspect that at least some of them are.
I suspect that we're becoming a community of invisible people, everyone living two lives - the happy, respectable, public life, and the messy private life. And each and everyone one of us are just fighting to keep it together, to keep the private life from falling apart completely while keeping it hidden from the rest of the world.
Or maybe it's just me.
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