Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

I need to write, to get my thoughts down on paper.  But I never know where to start.  I have too many thoughts, and they're all moving so fast.  I can never just pick one.  And when I do pick one, it's always the wrong one. 
I just want to vent but I'm scared.  I'm not scared that no one will listen, I'm scared that they will.  Everybody assumes I'm okay, just because I'm happy.  They don't seem to understand that my happiness is just the glue holding together the frail shards of my sanity.
I feel as though my head is stuffed full of cotton.  Each thought I think makes me feel as though my skull will explode.
I am fine though.  I mean it.  I just feel sick sometimes.  Sick in the head.  But who doesn't get sick from time to time?
I'm happy and I'm doing good.  It's just that I'm a little cracked.  But that's okay.  Because I'm working on it.  I'm getting better.