I need to tell someone. But I don’t have anyone to tell. A therapist might say this need comes from my childhood when I was mostly ignored by my parents. I was a child doing a thing a child thought was the right thing to do – be seen and not heard. Turns out, I was neither and that has resulted in a deep-seated need for me to be both seen and heard and, yes, even understood. So I write. So I share. And so then I wait. I wait for the little notes and messages I send out into the void of the internet to get some sort of acknowledgment. Perhaps it comes in the form of a new follower or comment from a complete stranger. Maybe it’s a reliable message from a friend I hardly ever see. Even a single random “like” gives me some sense of worth.

Otherwise, I’m just invisible. Otherwise, I might as well be invisible. Otherwise, why even exist at all? 

I shouldn’t say I don’t have anyone to tell. I have people I can tell but, you know, I always feel like something isn’t right about it. My daughter is probably my closest confidant, but many things aren’t appropriate for our relationship. I want to tell my partner many things, but I don’t want to burden him with more because he’s often dealing with so much on his own. I don’t have many close friends. The few I do have.. well..  they too have their own lives and again, I don’t want to be a bother or a burden. So I turn to this. I turn to writing and now, as it turns out, it makes sense why posting to a blog is so important. Because I need to. 

Period. Point. That’s the end of the story of why. Now what? 

What is it I need to tell someone? 

Today I need to tell someone that my period is 24 days late and NOT have them shrug and say, “It must be perimenopause.” I can’t tell anyone that because if I did, and that was their response, I’d have to cut them and then I’d have to go to jail. I don’t want to do that.

I’m joking, of course, but I want to move past the obvious, to gain a deeper understanding of what it means, and maybe get to a place of acceptance.

Right now I’m so full of a “full” feeling, both mentally and physically. It’s like my body has waited eight weeks to release pent-up emotions and retained water. When I get my monthly cycles, I can physically, mentally, and emotionally feel that drop, that release. So each day that passes, I feel a little more full. And I joke about pre-menopause, but I know it’s a phase I’m about to face whether I like it or not. I just don’t feel ready. Me and my 38-year-old-looking self are just not fucking ready!

Today – right now at 11:57 PM – I need to tell someone I’ve been up since 4:04 AM and I can’t sleep. My brain is cycling through about 20 different things and my anxiety about each thing is buzzing. I check my email like it’s a drug I’m addicted to expecting to find something, anything new because I’m starved for it. I want good news, bad news, stupid shit I’ve subscribed to I can actively delete or file away. I want messages I’ve sent off into the ether minutes, hours, days, and weeks ago to come back – a read-receipt, a notification, a reply to work I’ve submitted to a publication, even if it’s nothing more than a form letter. I want to feel seen. 

I need to tell someone I helped my son file his taxes for the first time today. And I helped my daughter last weekend do hers. I showed them how to do it themselves, had them go through the process just like I did for myself for years upon years. All the years before I met my current partner. Now my taxes are prepared by an accountant, and I have very little to do with any of it. I slide paperwork I’ve collected across a table and a week later I get an email with a document to e-sign. Me and my contribution and participation are so insignificant and that feels a lot like being invisible. 

I want to tell someone I’m going on vacation. And not feel guilty about it. When I mention it to people, because sometimes you have to so they know not to expect anything during that time, they usually respond positively, but then there’s always this little thought in the back of my head (because people have made comments before), that they are thinking “You’re going on vacation again?! Didn’t you just go on vacation?” Yeah, we do take an above average amount of time off during the year and spend some of that time traveling. My life is good, and sometimes I feel guilty about that. 

I need to tell someone I got offered a book deal. And feel excited about it. Instead, I’m afraid people who aren’t part of the “writerly” world will not understand the significance of it, and people who do understand will be judging, measuring, and maybe even be resentful.

I need to tell someone I don’t want to run a journal anymore. Or at least that I don’t want to keep doing it the way that I am for very much longer. I just can’t. I don’t know how to do that and not feel like a failure or like I’m letting someone down. 

I want to talk to someone about the fact that I’m done with creative writing as it relates to generating new work, with an intent to publish. I’m done with workshops, generative writing sessions, prompts, participating in feedback groups, events centered around spontaneous writing. I want time to explore other passions and things that are more fulfilling. This I can do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.

I need to tell someone it’s now 12:23AM and I’m so tired. My eyes are tired and the screen is blurry. And I can hear the heavy breathing coming from the bedroom even though I am up the stairs in another room. I desperately need sleep. I need it. And I need lots of it. 

I just needed to tell someone. And you’re it. 

If you made it this far, thanks for reading. I hope you are doing well.

Peace and Love, 

~Miss SugarCookie