I never had the opportunity to find myself. I went straight from childhood to depression to having a child of my own and forgot to look. It’s not like you directions or a manual on that sort of thing. I was the sort of child that hid in books and pretended that I was someone else. Someone more important than myself, someone that mattered and who would go off to live exciting adventures or one day accomplish extraordinary things. It’s like I woke up one day and realized that I may just be an adult. No one warned me this would happen and I never realized that it would happen so fast. I woke up and knew that the child in me was gone…vanished…poof! Now I suddenly have someone else’s childhood and life to worry about and I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. It’s hard to be twenty one and not know what you want to be, where you want to be or even IF you want to be…you know whatever. I guess I trailed off point here. This is what happens to an insomniac. Thoughts get jumbled up and you end up with a page full of gibberish that makes no sense to anybody but yourself.