Starting a New Play and Facing Truth in Plain View of All

My new play, named "Art: Modern, Love: Eternal", (which really needs a better title, so we'll call it a working title) has forced me to confront something I'm not comfortable with...the Truth. I have to be honest and that includes with my own foolish self. Oh, it's so easy to write other people's shortcomings, especially when they are obvious, but in this play, I have to say out loud to the world, "I'm a total romantic idiot who believes the best even in the face of facts." I am an enabler and a caretaker. I am a fool. Siriana is me. Middle-aged writer with Multiple Sclerosis who thinks she still has it and finds out with a hard crash that she does not. She attempts nobility. She expects no reward and does not receive it. Not at least where she can hear it. Adapting another writer, I am trying to embrace his romanticism, and yet it is 2011. And yet it is me. Stepping back, I look at the situation and I cannot whitewash it. I cannot sugar coat it. Truth. Truth. Truth at any price. Whatever it costs me. I am sure it will not hurt anyone else because the subject will not read the play or see the play or even care if it is written. That's why we write plays. To make ourselves and our lives more interesting to those who are smart enough to care.