Happy 29th birthday to Becky, and thank you, Tammy, for clinching my decision to stop public journaling. Now I have the freedom to say what I want, whine all I want, be as negative as I want, be as controversial as I want, be as blunt as I want… all without censoring names or anything personal. 

It's not that she said anything wrong and it isn't that she didn't have a point when we talked yesterday and she mentioned that my blog was very negative and that it was affecting my health and moods. Even so, to me, nobody should hold back in their journals, even if that means an over-expression of negative thoughts, experiences and feelings. 

When she mentioned my fear of being left alone, she was under the impression that I felt this as of just last week instead of months ago, and I realized that she had no concept as to the depth of what I went through, saying I’ve got it made compared to her and others, I’d never make it in her shoes, etc. She’s probably right, but her suffering doesn’t devalue mine. Yet understandably, it's very hard to really relate when you haven't gone through something somebody else has. Without experiencing firsthand how the higher doses of Levothyroxine affected me both physically and emotionally, she's never going to get just how bad it was. It was a medical disorder making me have those fears, not a conscious choice. I didn't choose or decide to feel afraid. Still, I get her point. She may not get it like many don’t get my sleep disorder, but yeah, I can be harsh and negative all the way. 

But the thing is that while I don’t want to worry others or bring them down in any way (is it really anyone’s business anyway?) I have a right to be me. I don’t feel ashamed or a shred of guilt for speaking my mind and I welcome back the days of writing for me and for me only. I miss being “selfish” with my writing. Unless it was a work of fiction I was being paid fairly for, I never wanted to write for an audience. Yes, public blogging was fun and maybe I’ll return to it someday, but people reading and commenting on my journals have lost its excitement, and visitor tracking is nothing new anymore either. So… time to write for me and be me. I’m not even going to worry so much about spelling and grammar. Just gonna pour it all out. 

I’m nobody’s liar. I’m not going to sugarcoat a negative experience or omit it completely just to not come off as negative. I’m going to do what I’ve always done and simply write what comes to mind. Sometimes it will be negative. Sometimes it will be neutral. Other times it will be positive. But yes, I need to worry less and think more positively. It’s just hard to when you’re either worried or not feeling well. 

I’m still going to use my blogs because the different platforms are fun and they make for a good backup. They just won’t be public. I know my 4 Prosebox besties are going to wonder where the hell I am, but I get a kick out of Andy and Aly wondering where the hell I am. I mean, sooner or later they’re going to check out my blog out of curiosity, I would think. 

So I’m going to blog privately on Blogger and Prosebox and put a hold on my dream blogs for now. They really don’t serve much purpose anyway, and I can always gather future dreams to post later on if I want to. 

Not gonna back these posts up to blogs every single day. More like every 10 days or so. 

Might also drop the book list, too. It serves no real purpose either. I don’t need to remember what I’ve read cuz Amazon tells me if I accidentally go to order a book I’ve already got. 

Since I only have one appointment between now and September, believe it or not, I think I might take a break from my allergy spray. It’s not the time of year for nasal allergies, but if I have an attack, at least I won’t have to worry about sneezing through appointments and can jump back on it if need be. 

Finally slept better last night and therefore I’m in a better mood. Got the laundry done today, the grocery list, and completed a handful of other tasks. I found a good way to use up our remaining pods as we transition to liquid detergent, is to put it in the sock bag. That way it can’t get stuck in the seal again. 

So while it was through teary eyes of fear that Tammy and most of the public wouldn’t get, I bravely swallowed my first half a Pravastatin last night. Woke up with a slightly sore throat, but then it diminished. Hopefully, it won’t become more of an issue the more I take. I would really like to safely reduce my risk of a heart attack or a stroke, something no one wants to believe can really happen to them. 

I don’t fucking believe it. Twitter locked my account again. It’s GOT to be a glitch. Again, I verified my number, unlocked it, then deactivated it. I’m not going to play games with these assholes. 

Last night I dreamed I was checking out pictures of Alyssa on my computer with Tom asleep in the adjacent room. As usual, the place didn’t look like ours. I heard a bump and assumed that Tom bumped his arm against the exterior wall above his bed. 

Ah, it was nice to write like it was pre-June of 2008 again!