I was recently asked if I am experiencing writer's block because it's been awhile since I posted anything. I wouldn't say that is necessarily the reason for my absence. The truth is I love to write and this blog has been a great outlet for me to both record precious memories and at times provide some free therapy for myself. But the bottom line is that it's the internet and therefore it's not private. I've said enough in my posts that anyone who knows me well enough who finds out I have a blog can use a few key words and track this down. It's funny, I'm okay with sharing my thoughts and feelings with billions of strangers but most of the people closest to me don't even know this blog exists. Not only is it hard to let them in, it also makes me feel I need to censor myself in what I write to make sure things aren't taken out of context should someone stumble upon it who has been mentioned in a post. I feel this way on message boards too when people I know in real life also join them. Plus, there is a matter of time. I'm a busy girl and most evenings it boils down to choices: I simply don't have the time to do everything I want to do in a day. Writing has gone by the wayside in favor of reading these days. There are just so many books and so little time-especially when you take allergy medicine that causes drowsiness and pass out after only a couple of pages.
The biggest reason for my absence is that I've reached a point where while I still feel I have plenty to say (never do I run out of opinions!), I feel I've over-shared way too much of my life over the years-not necessarily with blogging but in general-and now I just want my private life to be more private. It's nothing personal against anyone and it does make me feel a bit closed off but at the same time my every move is just that: MY every move. And quite frankly, I'm really not that exciting. I don't want to start to feel I live under a microscope. And I know by over-sharing in the first place over the years (can we say "attention starved?"), I have only myself to blame for getting to this point.
It does seem quite ironic that what is currently center stage in my life right now that I would ordinarily be all over writing about (because, seriously, what better way to over-analyze something) is the one thing I just don't want to talk about and feel fiercely protective of. My life has actually become rather routine and domesticated lately-which I'm not complaining about by any means; the somewhat slower pace has actually been welcoming. But though I still very much incredulously ask on a regular basis "how is this my life?" I don't have as many entertaining experiences coming my way these days. I'm still working on me and making some positive changes in my life and I'm sure blogging about that would probably put me to sleep let alone anyone who actually reads what I have to say! I'm bored just thinking about it...
I know I've still got plenty to say. There are still some memories of James that crop up and I find myself thinking "I've really got to get that one on paper." There are, of course, new memories I'd like to be able to remember when my little pea brain starts to forget the good times (which at the rate I'm going should be, oh, next Thursday). And there are times when I just want to vent. So, I guess right now I'm trying to figure out how to proceed. Do I stick with the narratives, just post short blurbs or both? Time will tell.
