So much sadness. My dreams were thoroughly depressing.

Now i'm reluctant to pick up another book and start reading again.

This is exactly what happened before, i just failed to realise my reasons.

Why would i sit staring at a pile of books i'm eager to delve into, but never get around to opening any of them?!

I've got to make myself stop this, otherwise i'm always going to be this way.

Always running from anything that makes me emotional. Anything that makes me feel.

Which is exactly what i'm doing.

I'm more sensitive than i realise sometimes...and when i read something, or watch something, and it gets to me, i get scared.

I can't handle feeling emotions too strongly.

I haven't worked out how to cope. How to sift through what's real and what isn't.

I haven't learnt to just embrace how i'm feeling, work through it and move on.

I do what i always do. Shy away and pretend it never happened.

Lock it in the cupboard full of dusty secrets.

Repress. Repress. Repress.

I could try to psychoanalyse myself, but i'm no professional, and frankly i don't want to know what's wrong with me right now.

I just...i'd like to not be this way sometimes.

I'd like to not be afraid of feeling so much.

Because, i still feel it, i'm still upset now, and if i even start to think of the book i get all teary....it hurts.

And i don't know if it hurts because i'm such a big mess, because i just feel things so strongly, or because i try not to feel them.

But as soon as i start thinking about it, i think i'm being ridiculous and try to pull myself together.

The only time i'm okay with my feelings, the only time i understand how powerful they are and embrace it...is the love i have for my brother.

I doubt i'll love my children anymore than i love him.

And even though accepting the fact i would probably splinter into peices without him is terrifying...i'm not as afraid of being hurt.

Because i know he loves me back and i don't need to be afraid of him. I'm his protector.

And i'm a damn good protector.

I get angry at myself when it comes to the rest of my family though.

I try not to think about how i feel about them, because i don't know how to show it or understand it.

Take Lorna for example...even though technically she's not family. And her cousin Emily too.

I like the pair of them. Genuinely think they're lovely people who i feel safe and comfortable with....now more than ever, because it does take me time to warm up to people.

Last time i was over there, for the Uni open day, i had a really nice time.

They made me feel so welcome and i spent half my time telling Lorna everything on my mind and the other half chasing Dan around playing catch the three year old.

Lorna fussed about what to cook me for dinner, she put Much Ado About Nothing on the tv when Dan was in bed and she woke me up in the morning to say she'd ran me a bath. Emily decided i was to come on their next family holiday.

She thought about me. She acted so sweetly. She cared for me like i was one of her own.

And it made me really happy, but it also made me feel a little suffocated.

Which in turn makes me feel sad.

Am i so twisted inside that i can't accept a little bit of kindness from someone who's let me into their life?

I haven't rung her in a week. Because that's what i do when i start to feel too much from one person....i get myself some space.

And i feel guilty for doing it, but i'm not ready to talk to her.

I haven't rung my auntie in a week either...probably because she seemed to be ringing me every day to talk after the holiday, when usually we don't speak for months.

And i feel guilty about that too.

I push people away, when all i really want to do is hold on tighter.