I struggle with how much to share here.
Those who know me, who know my story, know that I blogged before. That blog hurt my ex greatly. In it I wrote about my life, the challenges and all of the difficulties I was having in my relationship. I cataloged every slight and every frustration. And even though the blog was long gone before my relationship ended, the betrayal my ex felt was still there even years later.
When the relationship finally ended, I used this blog as a way to process my feelings. I needed to rage and scream and blogging provided me that outlet. But there was still a part of me that felt guilty for the pain I’d caused, so I made those very angry posts password protected. That way I had some control of who I was sharing my rage with and I wasn’t just spreading it around the internet like I had done before. But once I had moved on, once I no longer felt like the rage was controlling me, the existence of those posts felt wrong.
Maybe wrong isn’t the right word. It’s not that the posts themselves were wrong…they were about my anger, my feelings about the break up, but I knew how much damage they could do to the fragile co-parenting relationship I was trying to carve out with my ex. The very existence of those posts, password protected or not, would cause irreparable damage so I took them down.
And that left me unsure of what to write.
Sure I’ve come back over the last year to talk about the changes in my life (um, hello….straight now!), but I always struggle with what to write. I make sure that I am only talking about MY feelings or how I am perceiving the situation.
I can talk about my man because he is aware of the blog and that I write about our relationship. I wanted to make sure right from the start that he knew so that it couldn’t jump up and bite me in the ass again.
I try very hard NOT to write about my ex except in the broadest terms.
I write about my children, and about some of the challenges and joys that they bring. But again, how much of their story is my story to tell?
One of the things I’ve figured out as I struggle to find something, anything, to write about…is that I’m an angry/crisis blogger. When life gets hard and I am over whelmed with ….feelings….I blog about it.
I try to avoid any and all confrontation in my life. The thought of having a difficult conversations fills me with dread. All of the things I want to say get stuck in my throat and I would rather do ANYTHING than sit down and talk about hard things. I get anxious and my fight or flight instinct kicks in and I’m running for the hills.
Or, if I’m angry and I have no way of letting it out (because, you know, I ran away!) then I want to write. And write and spew out all of the anger and the rage. All of those things I can never say come out when I’m writing.
I used to journal when I was younger, back when we used paper and pen. I hated the diaries with all the days in it. It seemed like so much pressure to write every day. There would be day after day of teenage angst and then blankness.
And I guess part of my problem right now is that I’m not angry. I’m happy. I’m so incredibly content and thrilled with my life right now that I really have nothing to say.