I woke up at 4am today and couldn't get back to sleep for at least an hour.
I'm still hearing things. Today I thought I heard Mum calling me to the kitchen to help her with dinner. When I went out there, though, Mum was stirring spaghetti sauce. "Did you want me?" I asked.
She gave me a look. "No," she said.
"So I'm just hearing things," I said. She nodded. Gee, that's encouraging. Even my mother thinks I'm going crazy. Of course, she probably knew that years before I did. She showed me a bunch of papers from my childhood, but there are probably a bunch of crazy files hidden somewhere. It's the family secret. Mwahaha.
I'm one of those people who wears her heart on her sleeve. I wish I would stop it. Then people wouldn't be able to tell so easily when I'm hurt, and they wouldn't try to get in on my emotions so easily, and I won't have to pour out my heart to them. Sometimes it's a good thing, though, especially when my thoughts are about the person who is doing the probing. Wow, that doesn't sound completely right. On the other extreme, I can pretend that I'm just fine when it's painfully obvious that I'm not. This was worse in my angsty teen days, but it's still present now and then.
(No, this didn't come up today. It's just an observation.)
Could it be? Am I turning into the stereotypical angsty teen LJ user? (gasp) Wow. Save me from this fate. I refuse to turn to the side of evil! (Not that LJ is evil--just the teenyboppers.)