Why Do I Do It?

I'm having a bad afternoon.
I'm poorly, I'm tired, the school run was awful. So awful.
I'm questioning myself as a mother. Whether or not this is right for me.
If I am "up to the job". 
My anxiety has gone sky high.
I have a bazillion (yes that's a real thing, in my head anyway) other things in my mind hurting and smashing against every side 
I am breaking. Slowly into a million pieces.

And what do I do? What do I want to do?
I want to write about it?
I want to head straight onto my laptop, open up my blog, and write about it.
All of it.
And I then I hit publish.
And people read it.

But why am I doing this to myself?
Why am I writing all these crazy, attention seeking things down?
Why am I allowing myself to be judged? To be talked about?
By friends, strangers, enemies.

I write and it makes me feel a tiny bit better. Not completely. It doesn't fix anything.
But just a tiny bit better.
But would I feel better if this was private? If I hit publish and I knew I was the only one reading it?
No, what would be the point of that?
But why am I constantly opening myself up?
Saying "hey everyone, look crazy moment going on over here! wooooo!!"

I'm not stupid.
I can see it.
A roll of the eyes.
Here she goes again.
I get it. I do. I understand.

I can understand why it would be so hard to be friends with someone like me.
For me to be normal, and to be all "Wooo, Joules. Woooo boat. Wooo *other stuff I obsess over*" and then to come here and be like "Woah, she didn't say anything about feeling like that?"

There feels like no point in saying that I'm not ok when I'm asked. It's annoying if someone says "Actually no I'm not".
I know that. I used to work with someone just like that, although she did it for the attention. Really she did.
I don't want anyone to think that of me.
I'm not like that.

I say I'm ok, because it's easier.
It's easier to say I'm ok, because I don't always know what's wrong.
But also, it's easier for those who ask, who won't know the right thing to say.
Because there isn't a right thing to say.

I just want a cuddle.
I just want to be liked.
I just want to be me again.
Not this mess.

But why do I do it?
Why do I tell complete strangers, people who will never meet me?
People who like me, or don't like me?
Why am I opening up like this?
What am I doing to myself?


I saw a post on LinkedIn recently that really hit home to me. It was a lady talking about her two grown up sons, one who lives away from hom...