No More Secrets

My life is, once again, completely transparent. I like it that way. I've promised to keep it that way. A promise that, after recent experiences, shouldn't be hard to keep. I feel like I'm waking up from a nightmare that lasted a year.
I have one concern. I don't want the ripples of my confessions to hurt anyone. I know the people closest to me have already been hurt, but my hope is that the healing process has already started. But later on, down the road, when our waters are peaceful again... it's like dropping a stone in a round pool and the ripples go out and bounce off the sides and come back in like choppy waves because they keep hitting each other.
Do priests advise their parishioners to confess their sins to each other? Or is it that as long as they're revealed in a confessional, all is forgotten? If the latter is true, I can't imagine how Catholics live with themselves. It's freeing to be known. I think it's probably as much true freedom as one can get on earth.

I still have insomnia. Well, not insomnia, exactly. I can sleep, I just don't sleep at night. I slept from about six this morning to around eleven and then I fell asleep around five pm and slept until ten thirty or so. Ten thirty in the evening seems to be my morning. Even if I don't nap in the afternoon, I get my second wind then. It's so easy for me to stay up until four of five in the morning. I'm like an infant who has their days and nights mixed up. It has it's perks, but there are drawbacks, obviously, since my family needs me to function from seven to seven daylight hours. I'm not sure what to do.

Today was the first day I felt like I was marginally in control of my own home again. I did dishes and picked up messes and put away laundry and played with my kids in the living room. I changed diapers and I carried Liam down the stairs just to see if anything would happen. Nothing did. I have help scheduled for next week, but I think I'd probably be ok without it. The only big issue is how tired out I get so quickly. That's part of why I fell asleep at five this evening. I did more physical activity this afternoon than I have, by far, for the past nine days.

I'm hungry. It's three am and my stomach is actually growling.

I can't say the phrase 'it's three am' without thinking about that song... "It's three am, I must be lonely... and the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days and days." It's nice to know there are people out there that have the potential to relate to me. Or I to them. True connections are rare, though. At least for my breed.

I'm yawning. Maybe I can fall asleep 'early' tonight after all.