So here I am, awake at almost 7 a.m. and I'm not tired at all. My meds kind of make me not tired or want to sleep, but once I'm knocked out they make me feel kind of dead and not want to get up. But, I'm hoping that fades.

I'm watching Girl Interupted and I forgot how much I am in love with this movie.

I'm sitting here and when I'm alone and awake and it's those morning hours, I kind of can't control myself from thinking about everything.

Everything from things I've done, to people I've met, to how I've met people, to where I'm been, what I've done, what I wish had happened, how I can't really tell the difference from my dreams and reality sometimes because they all begin to blur after awhile. Or how I hold so many secrets and I wish I could just scream them out. But I'm too nervous. 

No one understands or gets it. But I hold a past, a life time of past's. I've done a lot of horrible things and seen even more. I've been everywhere and done everything. I've lived it. 

No one understands that I'm running away from a lot of people and I have reasons to hide. I live with new names and new lives sometimes depending on where I go.

I really just want to be free of it. I'm sick of feeling like my truths are the end of me. But they are. Sadly.

I need to start writing and reading more. Maybe not in my blog, but on my computer in general. Find an outlet for my secrets. I told Kevin about how I would write stories and novels about my life and my secrets, but when I'm done I erase them because I'm afraid of publishing them and having everyone know. But he thinks I should anyway, and only him and I would know it was me.

Maybe.