John the Farmer

I think there's one thing I've finally realized about myself:
No one knows anything about me.
Or rather, no one knows everything about me.
I am unable to share what is really going on.
I'm unable to tell people why I'm upset
or that I am even upset.
I think I have too much of a maternal instinct.
I need to take care of people,
maybe so I don't have to take care of myself.
But if someone else is upset,
I can't find anyway to feel upset myself
because I feel like I need to take care of them
before I take care of myself.
I don't remember the last time I sat down and jus took care of myself.
I live a life of lonesomeness and worry.
Not to say, that I'm lonely when I'm with the people I care about
Just that it sucks when no one knows the real you
when you can't get anything off your chest.
And I worry about everything
Even when everything is going right
I have to find something to worry about.
I no longer know how to live a carefree existence.

I was thinking a lot about the things that people don't know about me,
the things that I only know about myself.
And thinking maybe, if it would help me,
I could post them here.
And then everyone would know without me really having to ever say it
And I was about to do it.
That was the whole reason of this post.
I was gonna make a series of life events that are still present in my head,
that I don't think I've ever shared with anyone.
But I'm chickening out for now.
Maybe some other time.