It is time to shut down. Mentally. Emotionally. I have got to shut myself down.

I don't do this much, open up and talk about my "feelings", in a sense to where I totally and completely say what is on my mind and become totally honest with myself and those around me. I mean pulling that scab off and exposing the raw skin underneath. I just don't do this. One, it makes me vunerable. I don't like being that way. I have responsibilities, a child to raise, I don't have time for vunerable, nor do I like the fact that my vunerabilites can be used against me by people that have nothing better to do but to hurt others. And two, because it's just not me. I may wear my feelings on my sleeve, but I don't expose what those feelings are or why I'm feeling them. I don't like to show my weaknesses, my faults, I like to appear strong to those around me, like I have everything together, like life is just peachy in my world.

But...............it has come to my attention, that I don't believe I can live this way any longer. I don't have everything together. There are things that I will not go into detail about, but there are things in my life that I don't have together. Not at all. I sit everyday and watch this situation crumble around me, but I don't get up and fix it. Why? I may be scared. Scared of the outcome and consiquenses. That is normal. But I need to grow up and face my mistake. Deal with it. Take care of it. And stay on top of it until it's fixed. That is just one of my problems. One of my the things that runs through my head at night when I'm trying to fall asleep.

And, we're moving in less than 2 months. I have a million things I should be doing to prepare for this move. Well actually there aren't a million. But there are a few, and I just don't want to do them. Maybe because it's stressful, I don't know. But the fact remains that I don't wanna take care of it. I know I have to and need to and that's life, grow up Amanda, deal with this shit.

Just two of the many things that my brain processes late at night when I can't sleep, while I lay in bed staring at the damn wall. Also, I'm scared. Scared of what? Scared of moving. What's there to be scared of? Hell I don't even know. I'm so totally excited to be moving to Colorado, but why am I freaked about it? I can't wait to get out of Mt. Home. Can NOT wait. But I'm scared about moving. I worry constantly about Kailee, my daughter. I worry someone will take her, someone will hurt her, she'll get separated from me at the store, she'll run out in the street and get hit by a car, her teacher isn't watching her close enough at school and she stabs herself with sissors. I worry a lot about my child. My life is her. I would not survive if something happened to her. And my worries go beyond the normal worries of a caring Mother. I assure you I have a problem, I need to see a shrink or something.

So coming to a point, last night I laid awake in my bed for a little over an hour unable to sleep because of the above mentioned stuff going through my brain, and lots more stuff. I didn't sleep well as a result of this, and so today I've had a major migraine. This is common for me. But what is not common is that this migraine is going on 13 hours. I've taken 9 Advils, plus my migraine tablet to make it go away, and it's just not. Earlier I took my tempature with Kailee's SpongeBob thing, and it said 101. I'm making myself sick, and I know I need to stop. So I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. First for a sleeping pill. I've got to get my brain to shut down, otherwise I'm never going to start feeling better. Second, to get more of my migraine pills. I hate going to the doctor, in fact I usually put it off until I'm close to death. I get that from my Dad. He hasn't been to a doctor in 12 years, and I'm not exaggerating. But, I'm admitting that I need help, and I can't do this alone any longer. I can't carry this shit in my fucked up brain and I need to let it out.

I feel better typing this stuff. A friend of my Mom's told me years ago that writing can be like thearpy. She gave me a journal to write in. And I started. Kailee was a baby then, and I was going through some shit. I've written ever since, whether in a Blog or personal diary. It does make me feel better. So mind you, for all those that read this and wanna say "you know be thankful for what you have", or "there are people out there with worse problems", save it. I know that. I know my life is grand, and I'm NOT complaining one bit about my life. IN all actuality, I'm very happy. I'm just stressed, and tired. And I know what I need to do. I just hope posting this blog doesn't come back to bite me in the ass. BUT, I recently heard the phrase "sometimes we need to hit rock bottom in order to better ourself"...or something to that nature. So, I'm at my own personal rock bottom, let's see if it works.

Night.

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