So, which am I? I have always loved words but I find myself often in a place were words don't come easy. Supposedly this diary is to help me with that? Hmmm well maye it has to some degree. But even here I find myself grasping for thoughts and words and descriptions of how I really feel. So I struggle to put something down. I know I need this. These words can be cathartic if I let them be. I don't even mind that anyone reads them. They are still me, my thoughts, my dreams, my dashed hopes, my anger - a way to exhibit just me. I don't have to pretend not to be angry at the man I love cause I don't want to hurt his feelings yet another time in my moody day. I also don't have to be so blasted cheerful and positive - the way that I feel that I have to be so much of the time (I think that's a requirement of being a minister's wife).

But here - this is a haven of sorts. A place to be me. Just me. The best and the worst. A place to whine and cry and moan and groan and even shout happy words or scream nonesense if need be. I can be me. Just me. Wouldn't it be nice if I could feel comfortable just "being me" in my real world? The world outside these typewritten words?

Sigh! I guess that's what diarylands for eh?