I've got to write this down

Anti-blog. That's me. But as I sit, re-agonizing over my mental state and trying to keep it all together, I think about journalling. Used to do it. Liked to do it. It helped to do it. Never organized enough to do it. I have a box of quarter to half-filled journals. They stay boxed up. I have "journals" laying on shelves all over my house which have been kidnapped and molested, turned into boring "to-do" lists, ripped out pages, forgotten, dust-collected, or used by my two children as personal art books.
This one is mine. This one cannot get lost. This one is in a place I access everyday. It will not be kidnapped.
I know my story may be boring. But it's not boring to me. Sometimes it's stressful, sometimes its joyful - ups, downs. Days I think I've got it all together, Days I know I'm falling apart.
To sum up the main topics or reasons for my "journal" - I'd have to say: momming, depression, ADD, "object placement disorder", anger, finding my purpose, nutrition, vitamins, meds, therapy, coping skills, returning to school, writing, seasonal affective disorder, wifery, household management and sanity management. I don't have any answers, but I sure am looking for them.