It has long been a failing of mine that I don't really talk a lot about how I feel. I still recall back in 2000, when I came home from overseas, discussing with a friend where I'd been, and why I disappeared, and she commented that she'd gone back through logs of our conversations, and made the following observation:

At the time, it felt like we spoke on how I was, how I was feeling, and that we spoke on how you were feeling. But on reflection later, you never really answered. You answered just enough to cover yourself until you could move the conversation away from the subject.

And she was right - that's a pretty accurate summation of what I did.

But why? That's the $64,000 question.

The best I can put it is self-deprecating. I spend so much time deriding angst and depression amongst people, yet I'm frightened that my answers of "not good, not good at all" will just be seen as attention-whoring, trivial little 'pity me' pursuits.

Truth is, a lot of the time, I do feel below average. I dislike many parts of myself. There is a pride in my accomplishments, most definitely, but there is also a lot of self-loathing, both of tangible and intangible things, some justified, some not.

Part of this, too, is not wanting to be a burden, not to subject people to this. I guess it comes back to the whole 'fear of losing face'. I need to learn that people don't need perfection, they need someone human. Practice what you preach, Robert. That's one of the ironies, I'm so good at listening to others, encouraging and reassuring them in their moments of weakness, but generally not my own.

I'd like to think I'm getting better, and I'm trying. But if you think there's more under the surface, poke and prod. It might just come out. And next time, it might even not require that poking and prodding.