I have been hiding. I was on a good roll for a few weeks, posting almost daily, writing and typing to my heart’s content and then, last Friday, my brain ground to a halt. I wanted to write about stuff. I even created time and space to write about stuff. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt fake. I felt on the surface of things. Unwilling to delve deeper into what I was feeling. And most writing – at least the kind that rings true – requires some type of emotional honesty. How can I be honest to others when I am lying to myself? Even now, I know I need to write this piece. For myself. But I keep procrastinating. (Which, let’s be honest, is what I do anyway. But MORE SO.) I do not want to face myself. … “It’s not about you,” Dr. T said. “It’s not about…