It has been some time since I’ve posted anything. Ideas come sometimes, but I keep them to myself. I don’t want to write about how I feel. I don’t want to write about anything.

I can feel myself tightening up, protecting my inner thoughts from the outside world. It’s a familiar feeling, one that gives me comfort that I am the only one who is carrying my burdens. The problem with family and friends, I think, is that they care about me and are apt to want to help me when I want to be left alone. Yet I am so appreciative when people reach out. A conundrum, indeed.

I have a video appointment with my psychiatrist coming up, I have thought about rescheduling it again, or skipping it entirely. I’ll end up participating I’m sure, but I feel somewhat reluctant. I am growing used to holding my problems close. I don’t want people to know how I’m feeling inside, or hear about the thoughts inside my head.

Am I strong if I walk alone?

Am I weak if I show vulnerability?

What if I publish this even though I don’t want to? What then? Does that show strength or weakness?

And what of myself?

Who am I?

Am I the one who lets my words go out to the world?

Or the one who wraps himself in invisible chains?

Am I no more than a speck of dust, floating in the wind?

Maybe I’ll find out tomorrow. Or the day after.

The journey continues. Steady onward, my friends.