BEWARE THE MONTH OF MARCH
March 2. Awesome. Only 29 days to go.
This month of March is about to lob three enormous boulders at me.
Needless to say, I am dreading it, and the sooner this month is behind me, the better. Any single obstacle alone would be challenging; three at once is going to feel near impossible and somewhat insurmountable. Honestly, if I find myself on April 1 not committed to a mental hospital, I will consider that "WINNING." (Charlie Sheen reference not accidental; right now I am "winning" in the same delusional way that he is - by failing).
I plan to deal with the next month in the same way I always deal with difficulty - by blogging about it to sort the garbage out that is cluttering up my brain. But, I am growing exhausted at the cryptic nature this blog has taken on over the past few years.
There was a time when I wrote (and published) this blog with reckless abandon. I put it out there - warts and all - because getting the truth out there helped. But once more and more people in my real life started reading my blog, the censorship (which I HATE) began. I couldn't be AS real. I couldn't be AS honest. Sometimes the words and the thoughts need to be out there for some to see, but not necessarily for ALL to see.
When I started this blog, no one in my real world knew about it. I was going through our infertility woes, and the people that read it, in general, were other women (and a few men) dealing with the same issues. It was like our own private therapy group. It was a corner of the internet where we could all get together, whether it was daily or weekly or whenever, and we could share and commiserate and cry and laugh and NOT FEEL ALONE. It was, in fact, pretty awesome. I miss those days.
I miss the raw honesty my blogging once had. And right now, I need to get back there.
Long story short, my writing is going to be taking a sharp turn. I haven't decided if I am going to just start a new, anonymous blog, and keep it essentially a private place that only a handful of people know about. Or, maybe, I will keep this blog and password protect it. Meaning, you only get to continue to reading if I grant you access. I don't know yet. What I do know is that I need to get writing again, warts-and-all, but I know I cannot reveal that side of me to the entire world AT THIS MOMENT. If that makes any sense.
*sigh*
It makes sense to me. And for now, that is all I care about. It's my blog, and I will do as I want to.
This month of March is about to lob three enormous boulders at me.
Needless to say, I am dreading it, and the sooner this month is behind me, the better. Any single obstacle alone would be challenging; three at once is going to feel near impossible and somewhat insurmountable. Honestly, if I find myself on April 1 not committed to a mental hospital, I will consider that "WINNING." (Charlie Sheen reference not accidental; right now I am "winning" in the same delusional way that he is - by failing).
I plan to deal with the next month in the same way I always deal with difficulty - by blogging about it to sort the garbage out that is cluttering up my brain. But, I am growing exhausted at the cryptic nature this blog has taken on over the past few years.
There was a time when I wrote (and published) this blog with reckless abandon. I put it out there - warts and all - because getting the truth out there helped. But once more and more people in my real life started reading my blog, the censorship (which I HATE) began. I couldn't be AS real. I couldn't be AS honest. Sometimes the words and the thoughts need to be out there for some to see, but not necessarily for ALL to see.
When I started this blog, no one in my real world knew about it. I was going through our infertility woes, and the people that read it, in general, were other women (and a few men) dealing with the same issues. It was like our own private therapy group. It was a corner of the internet where we could all get together, whether it was daily or weekly or whenever, and we could share and commiserate and cry and laugh and NOT FEEL ALONE. It was, in fact, pretty awesome. I miss those days.
I miss the raw honesty my blogging once had. And right now, I need to get back there.
Long story short, my writing is going to be taking a sharp turn. I haven't decided if I am going to just start a new, anonymous blog, and keep it essentially a private place that only a handful of people know about. Or, maybe, I will keep this blog and password protect it. Meaning, you only get to continue to reading if I grant you access. I don't know yet. What I do know is that I need to get writing again, warts-and-all, but I know I cannot reveal that side of me to the entire world AT THIS MOMENT. If that makes any sense.
*sigh*
It makes sense to me. And for now, that is all I care about. It's my blog, and I will do as I want to.
