Today has ended in such an emotional whirlwind in my book I call life. I never can talk as well as I write. No wonder I write better than I talk. I get nervous to the point words just get mixed up and the meaning of my words get all jumbled up when I talk but when I write, I find it so much easier to do. I am not harboring any ill will towards people in my right mind but I have been hurt by people for many years that emotions come and go as memories of being hurt are being brought up from time to time from the back burner of my mind and memories. I am feeling that some family members in my life are insensitive and unsupportive, and they deem me some kind of liar or teller of half truths. I now know I will find myself unable to sleep well tonight and will probably have dreams that will show me as an outsider looking in. Those dreams do not make me feel very comfortable or very good. I am feeling like a child that has not amounted to the standards of how the parents want me to be except for one parent who happens to be my mother. I know it is sad. I am saddened that people just will not hear me without being so critical of what I am saying.