I was excited to start writing again after many years of muzzling that part of myself. I thought I had some good ideas. I read several blogs and thought, "I can do this. I know I can." And I wrote a handful of posts. And then nothing.
Part of the problem is that I originally intended this to be an anonymous blog - some place I could finally write out my pain, my frustration, my sadness, my joys, my thoughts without being judged and worrying about putting the people I know on the defensive. But then I shared it with a few close friends, and a few more friends, and now I'm afraid to write. I think that before I can be the creative writer I wish to be, I need to get out everything I've been holding in for so long.
I am not a happy-go-lucky, optimistic, look-on-the-bright-side kind of person. I've been condemned for that repeatedly. While I do try not to always be the pessimistic bitch that I can be, I don't hesitate to share the bad day stories along with the great day stories. I don't want my friends to only ever tell me the good in their lives - because that's not reality. Sometimes life sucks and sometimes we need to let it out!
What will you find out about me if you continue reading my blog in the future? I suffer from depression and often go to bed praying I won't wake up in the morning. I hate being a parent but love my children. I'm certain that people don't think of me often but when they do it's negative. I'm bored easily. I love to dance but am not good at playing. I need time to myself like a fish needs water - I start to slowly (or not so slowly) go crazy if I haven't had quiet alone time. My social anxiety often results in people thinking I'm snobbish or overly quiet. Or they think I'm a drunk who never shuts up - because I tend to drink too much in an effort to overcome said social anxiety. I enjoy being wanted but feel suffocated when needed. My noise sensitivity could cause sharp pointy objects to fly through my office at some point soon and often results in me snapping at my kids. I'm almost never actually "sick" by most people's definition when I call in sick - I've usually crashed into a wall of fatigue and my body feels so heavy that rolling over in bed is too much effort and my legs ache as if I've walked miles and miles. I will do anything I can to help you and be there for you, even if we don't like each other. I love to read and my ideal vacation is simply sitting in a tropical place near a pool or ocean reading a book. You will see all of these things in my posts. They won't always be happy or funny. They won't be full of wonderful. They'll just be me. So if you've come here from my Facebook page and don't appreciate the things I post there, then you most definitely don't want to read what I'll write here and absolutely you must stay away from following me on Twitter! Twitter is where I filter myself the least. But if you want to read more about how the Real Housewives of Placer County are driving me batty, or how I think maybe I'm becoming one of them, or what my kids did that made my head spin around, or my latest Burlesque experience, or the random bizarre thoughts that went through my mind today, or how hurt I am by something, or one of a bazillion stories that show what a shitty parent I am - then please come back and read and comment.
|Imagine this 20-some years later--that would be me some days.|