Cat Stole Your Tongue

They always say that talking about your problems is supposed to make you feel better.  You need to get it out of you before it becomes harmful.  What if you've got no one to talk to?  Or, better yet, what if you aren't allowed to talk to anyone?  I'm not one who generally likes to talk too much about everything anyways, but now that I have something to get off my chest, I can't say a word.  Its the worst feeling in the world.  The need to express yourself and verbally get across everything you've been bottling up all this time, but you can't find any words.  Even if you eventually did, who is there to listen?  If you do reach out and find the words to tell anyone, there's that big fat elephant in the room just lurking in the corner every time you see them after that.  All of a sudden, that's all you have to talk about anymore, but you can't, because you feel like the overbearing open book.  Then, you can't talk to anyone because you realize your every move is being documented and misconstrued.  Before you know it, you end up writing obscure posts such as this because there is no other safe way to say anything.  How sad is it that an obscure blog post has become more personal and private than a journal?  Yes, just about anyone searching for it can find my post, but those who know of my journal and want its contents pose a greater threat since unabriged and descriptive thoughts get added almost daily.  Obscurities have their advantages when you're in this situation, and while I've still somewhat got the ability to, I might as well talk.