It's almost 3 am and I can't sleep. And as I lay there (lie there?) trying to get to sleep I keeping rehashing things from the past that I'd rather not think about. I used to be so proud of myself for being someone who kept a journal, someone who confronted her own thoughts and fears. Now, I push so much to the back of my mind because I don't want to deal with it. I'm constantly saying to myself "I'll deal with that tomorrow" and then I say the same thing when tomorrow comes. I wonder what happened to the introspective me? Did I simply become weary of my own self-indulgent navel-gazing? The last thing I want to do is go back and read the 20+ years of journals that I kept until perhaps 1999 or even later but I'll hang onto them.
I'm lucky no one actually reads this blog so they won't have to deal with this boring post. Going back to bed now. Maybe I'll read a book.