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Last night was among one of the crazier things I’ve done in my life and, to be honest, it wasn’t that crazy for a lot of people. It was for me, though.

I was a little sad, somewhat annoyed, exhausted and a whole lot of angry. So I did the adult thing, downed an entire bottle of alcohol and posted all my angry, man-hating thoughts for the world to see on Facebook/Twitter.

This is not an apology.

I mean, it was annoying, I can give you that. But I am not sorry. I needed a night to not care. I needed some time to refrain from being the responsible adult. I needed to express anger and I needed to let myself feel sadness and I needed to let it all out — which I pretty much never do.

Luckily, I did so in a pretty entertaining way and no one seems upset with me. In fact, the general consensus is pretty much that I would be a hoot to drink with when, you know, I wasn’t full of angry hate. I think anyone who knows me even moderately understands that I am not that person. I have tried so very hard to be responsible, mindful, positive and strong in the past couple years. I’ve made great strides but sometimes I needed a reminder that I don’t have to be those things all the time.

Last night, I found support from some awesome people, who I would expect to be there, and some awesome people who surprised me by being there. They all surprised me by telling me it was okay for me to feel and act the way I felt and acted because they understood.

I also knew that I would sleep on it and feel better in the morning. Which I did, more or less. Some of the things that set me off didn’t matter in the morning light and some of them are going to make me feel a little blue for a while but none of them are the end of the world or even any worse than anything I’ve had to handle before. And I guess that makes me feel pretty good. Maybe I just needed to check out for a little bit but I’m awesome enough to know how far out I can go and able to reel it back in when I need to.

What happened last night won’t be a regular occurrence, thankfully, but last night needed to happen.

I’m the first one signed up to participate in WeBlogIt–the blogging project going on over at DayDreamz. Because I also run the project, I picked which theme would occur this week and so I will be writing all about things I hide from the world. I mused over this all this morning. I asked Dez what she thought I hid. I made some foods. I wrote some articles. I got some ideas.

The things I hide from the world are all things that I perceive as faults. Sometimes I can get pretty wrapped up in what others think of me, or what I fear others might think of me, even. So I hide things and this results in even the little things causing me stress.

For example, I hide the fact that I buy Mt Dew a lot. Everyone knows I love it but I also know it’s bad for me so I try not to let on how often I buy it. The truth is, I personally don’t care if it is bad for me (my bad) but I worry about what others might think if they knew how much I bought it. It’s okay, though. After I post this, I’m walking to the gas station to get a Dew. d=

I also hide my weight. Online, I don’t post full pictures but this habit comes out in real life, too. When I sit someplace, I frequently reach for a pillow to cover my midsection. I refuse photos a lot because of this. Or I’ll take a million and delete all but a handful that show the best side of me. During sex, I’ll pull the cover over me to hide my body and resist certain positions because I worry how I’ll look. I’m feeling more confident now that I’ve lost some weight but I’ve never entirely been comfortable in my own skin.

When people ask, I glaze over the fact that I have no driver’s license. Part of me isn’t bothered by it but part of me hates the fact that I’m so far “behind” that I don’t even want to talk about it because that means admitting my fault.

And I hide some of my negative feelings not just from others but from myself. I’ve written about it a few times but I have a hard time feeling things when I think, intellectually, that feeling that way isn’t helping me. Even if it’s completely expected for me to feeling negatively about a situation. I have a hard time accepting that. For a long time, I didn’t even think I could talk to my friends when something was bothering me. I’d like to think I’m better about that. After all, isn’t that why friends are even there? In many ways now, I’m pretty open.

I hide my roots from people. I come form a hard working but poor family and while I respect that, I also feel a sort of shame. I sometimes have a hard time introducing people to my family or bringing them into my family’s homes because I am afraid they will judge my family and, by association, me. This manifested itself a lot in my marriage. Although I secretly wished Ryan knew more of my family and got along with them and even though I know a lot of my family members are fun, I sort of avoided introducing him to people. In the end, I wound up hurting myself to avoid being hurt which is kind of par for the course when you do silly things like that.

I feel a little bit panicky. A little paranoid. A whole lot unsure. Perhaps a tint of depressed. I feel confused and overwhelmed. I am suddenly floundering in this tumultuous sea which I used to have under reign. At least, I used to pretend I did. I feel a little undone, a little unwound. I feel shook up.

Most importantly, I feel. I feel as though I am alive. I feel as though I am really in this moment.

And I’m not sure if I’m looking at the world in some sort of renewed clarity or if my vision is so blurred that I just think I am.

What am I even doing here? Who do I think I am? What else do I have? What do I do from here? Will this all go away if I ignore it enough? Am I strong enough to handle this?