If you know me fairly well, you know that I am a pretty open person. I am sure I have said as much in this blog several times. But I don't share very intimate details here. As you may have noticed, while at my last job, I never really blogged about it. By the time I starting writing this blog, I was pretty content in that area. Not loving-my-job-every-single-day happy, but content enough to realize that I had it pretty good. But even if I had been miserable, I am quite certain you would not have read about it here; I just don't think that is a wise idea, for the mostly obvious reasons.
Similarly, I don't write much about my marriage or any strife within my family. As with most relationships, Brian and I have had our ups and downs. But anytime we have gone through a big fight or struggled with a significant issue, those things have not made it here. My unwillingness to do so is not so much because I don't think it is anyone else's business. In fact, part of me wishes that more people would share tough things they have gone through or are going through. If nothing else, it helps us to realize that the grass is not always greener on the other side, and maybe, just maybe, we are not alone in our struggles. But these experiences are about me and other people. Seems kind of unfair to share their stuff here, even though I sometimes would prefer this outlet.
So I save the more personal and heady stuff for my journal, something I have been doing for about 21 years now. Sometimes, I have gone a year or two in between pennings. Other times, I find myself baring my soul several times a month. This process is not only cathartic but it also provides a nice history of my life. Sometimes I go back and read entries and am reminded of something I struggled with that I had pretty much forgotten about. Other times I am surprised at how angry, sad, or depressed something or someone had made me. Yet, I got through it and moved on. Unfortunately, half the time, I can barely read my scrawl, often written in furious anger!
But maybe that is for the best, really. Do I really want my kid to read about some of the stuff I did in high school and college or to know about things her dad and I went through that it is better she not? What if my siblings or parents ever came across some of my writings that talked about them? What if some of my friends found out that I had issues with the way they lived their lives? For as much as people tell you to keep personal things off the internet, sometimes I wonder if that is really the way to go. You can always delete an entry (seems easier than burning a journal!). And not everyone reads blogs or every posting anyway.
Something to think about. I just know that I am the type of person who needs to vent about these things somewhere. And I don't think I am going to become someone who bottles things up anytime soon.
Similarly, I don't write much about my marriage or any strife within my family. As with most relationships, Brian and I have had our ups and downs. But anytime we have gone through a big fight or struggled with a significant issue, those things have not made it here. My unwillingness to do so is not so much because I don't think it is anyone else's business. In fact, part of me wishes that more people would share tough things they have gone through or are going through. If nothing else, it helps us to realize that the grass is not always greener on the other side, and maybe, just maybe, we are not alone in our struggles. But these experiences are about me and other people. Seems kind of unfair to share their stuff here, even though I sometimes would prefer this outlet.
So I save the more personal and heady stuff for my journal, something I have been doing for about 21 years now. Sometimes, I have gone a year or two in between pennings. Other times, I find myself baring my soul several times a month. This process is not only cathartic but it also provides a nice history of my life. Sometimes I go back and read entries and am reminded of something I struggled with that I had pretty much forgotten about. Other times I am surprised at how angry, sad, or depressed something or someone had made me. Yet, I got through it and moved on. Unfortunately, half the time, I can barely read my scrawl, often written in furious anger!
But maybe that is for the best, really. Do I really want my kid to read about some of the stuff I did in high school and college or to know about things her dad and I went through that it is better she not? What if my siblings or parents ever came across some of my writings that talked about them? What if some of my friends found out that I had issues with the way they lived their lives? For as much as people tell you to keep personal things off the internet, sometimes I wonder if that is really the way to go. You can always delete an entry (seems easier than burning a journal!). And not everyone reads blogs or every posting anyway.
Something to think about. I just know that I am the type of person who needs to vent about these things somewhere. And I don't think I am going to become someone who bottles things up anytime soon.
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