I just wrote two very short (incomplete, really) and entirely different blog posts, and I decided to delete them both.
I want to share things that have been going on in my life, if for no other reason than to document events. But I just cannot seem to get into the groove of blog writing. Oddly, I have started writing in my journal again over the past few months, something I had not realized how much I missed.
As I said in a post some time ago, I am unwilling to lay it all out here for anyone to read. I don't care what strangers think about me. But I do have friends and the occasional relative who read my posts, and I am pretty sure there are a number of people I am connected with one way or the other (two or three degrees of separation) to whom I cannot bare my soul to. And that is where my trusty, not-out-there-for-all-to-see journal comes in.
I can write about a fight that Brian and I had and not worry that someone will think my marriage is in trouble. I can lament about work stress and not worry about a coworker stumbling upon my blog and thinking I am complaining about the job I am grateful to have. I can say things that bother and concern me about family and friends without fear that they will come here and read about themselves. thus straining our relationships. And I can work through my failings, trials, struggles, and the worries on the privacy of paper without wondering what things people must be thinking about me.
Ah, the failings, trials, struggles, and the worries. Sometimes I so want to put those things right here in this very blog. Perhaps it will make me feel better. Maybe someone can tell me that I am doing okay or that I am not alone. Or I might even end up with much-needed advice in some areas. But I just can't bring myself to say some of those things. Because what if no one can give me the reassurance I am looking for? Or what if someone tells me that I am taking the wrong steps, saying the wrong things, or worrying over nothing? Perhaps even worse, what if people have nothing to say at all?
Yeah, I think for now I am just going to stick to the blank stares and silence of my paper, the journal that won't judge my grammatical errors and pages of ramblings. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
I want to share things that have been going on in my life, if for no other reason than to document events. But I just cannot seem to get into the groove of blog writing. Oddly, I have started writing in my journal again over the past few months, something I had not realized how much I missed.
As I said in a post some time ago, I am unwilling to lay it all out here for anyone to read. I don't care what strangers think about me. But I do have friends and the occasional relative who read my posts, and I am pretty sure there are a number of people I am connected with one way or the other (two or three degrees of separation) to whom I cannot bare my soul to. And that is where my trusty, not-out-there-for-all-to-see journal comes in.
I can write about a fight that Brian and I had and not worry that someone will think my marriage is in trouble. I can lament about work stress and not worry about a coworker stumbling upon my blog and thinking I am complaining about the job I am grateful to have. I can say things that bother and concern me about family and friends without fear that they will come here and read about themselves. thus straining our relationships. And I can work through my failings, trials, struggles, and the worries on the privacy of paper without wondering what things people must be thinking about me.
Ah, the failings, trials, struggles, and the worries. Sometimes I so want to put those things right here in this very blog. Perhaps it will make me feel better. Maybe someone can tell me that I am doing okay or that I am not alone. Or I might even end up with much-needed advice in some areas. But I just can't bring myself to say some of those things. Because what if no one can give me the reassurance I am looking for? Or what if someone tells me that I am taking the wrong steps, saying the wrong things, or worrying over nothing? Perhaps even worse, what if people have nothing to say at all?
Yeah, I think for now I am just going to stick to the blank stares and silence of my paper, the journal that won't judge my grammatical errors and pages of ramblings. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
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Sometimes, though, I'd lament that no one would ever read some of the things I was proud of, but me.
But then blogs were invented, so I haven't had to worry about that any more.
I hope that however you choose to work through things, you find peace of mind.
Bluz: Writing things down used to help me solve the problems, but not so much now. One thing I will say is when I look back on some journal entries, I am often surprised by how bothered I was about something at the time and how now it seems rather trivial.
For the record, I am not going through anything earth-shattering or awful. But just things that I won't put here.
And, yes, it has been nice to rediscover the journal. If nothing else, I write, and write, and write, with no worries of how it reads. And let me tell you, as disjointed as some of these posts can be, my blog writing is award-winning in comparison to the pages of ramblings in my journal!