30 days no Facebook

I'm
Going to go 30 days without Facebook
30 days w/o Elad
30 days... That's all I got so for
Will update soon.and everyday a new photo of Israel.

It'll be okay.... (adapted to me...)

If you had asked me today how I am doing, I would have told you I am fine. I am good. Life is great. I might have told you the good news about my great schedule next month, or the great time I had in Paris recently. I probably would have offered you a glass of red told you about me going to
Israel next week.

And it would all be true. Mostly. Because I am fine and life is good, except when it's not. But I don't know how to tell anyone when it's not.

Right now, I am not okay. Today, I was not okay. This past week, I was anything but okay.

If I was being honest, I would have to tell you that I am heart broken. I haven't slept well in over a year now. I am finding it difficult to eat. My heart hurts and when my friends aren't looking, I can't stop the tears. I feel overwhelmed. I feel betrayed. I feel confused. I feel alone.

But if you ask, I will tell you that I am fine because I don't know how to say these things. I won't tell you these things because I don't want them to be true. I am courageous. I am positive. I am living with faith and hope. I am a glass half full kind of girl, always have been. I can't tell you that I haven't been able to figure out up from down this past year because that is not who I am.

I can't tell you what I've lost because that would be ungrateful. I don't want to complain. I don't want to burden anyone with my worries, my fears, my failures. And it's not that big of a deal anyway. This too shall pass. It will all work itself out in the end. At least, this is what I tell myself.

So, I do what I've been doing for so long now. I work and I work and I work. I lend a helping hand, and I keep busy. I've never been comfortable with being the victim or the storyteller, but when I do talk to a friend I tell a little bit, I admit some things, but I'm quick to point out the stars in the darkness. I'm quick to remind everyone that it will all be okay.

I don't know what else to do. I can't put words to this grief. I can't tell you what it's like to feel so alone, so misunderstood. I can't explain the short circuit between heart and mind right now. I don't want you to know how fragile everything feels, or how quick I am to fall apart, to cry out that this is not the life I wanted.

When I sat down to write this I intended to write the truth. I wanted to tell someone all the things I can't tell anyone. I thought if I could put them here, list them out and send them on their way, that it might help. Bounce back, I keep telling myself.

But now that I'm here, I don't think I can tell you everything or anything really. I don't think it would help. People will offer to listen. They will ask me what they can do, how they can help. And that's the tricky part - they can't, not really.

Right now, it's enough just to be able to say that I'm not okay. I just wanted someone to know.