History of a Blog
I started this blog in 2008 when my dad died, actually when he got sick and ultimately died a month later. I had all these feelings I couldn’t process. Ugh, feelings. Feelings that I had to get out because most of my life I’m alone and no one wants to hear that much about my feelings. Yes, I have amazing friends, but at some point, let’s move on. I feel like that about a lot of things, TOO. MANY. FEELINGS. So I started this blog on MySpace (what’s MySpace, grandma Christy?) and then I moved it over to WordPress because my Cousin Cari had one and she’s cool so I could be cool too, maybe, and it’s free and who doesn’t like free?
So I started writing about what I know, which wasn’t much, but I sure know about single parenting. I know about feeling like a parenting failure. I know about a bad marriage and living with a sociopath. I have some ridiculous stories like leaving my infant daughter at a truck stop with truckers. Then I started thinking of it as sort of a diary, an online journal, something my kids could read when I’m gone. Our history, stories, funny things, sad things, times I feel like a failure, human moments in my life. Then I linked it to my Twitter and Facebook and it’s out there for everyone.
But then who am I really writing this for? Ultimately it’s for me to get my feelings out or maybe for my sister’s amusement. Sometimes I’m up late at night just writing in my head and if I’m too lazy to grab my iPhone and blog it, then it’s just gone. And there’s more I need to say, but now I have to think about who’s reading this crap. I have three teens, two in high school, one in college, and I’m “friends” with people whose kids go to school with my kids and I’m friends with some of my college-aged daughter’s friends now, and I have to think about consequences, which I don’t want to do if this is about me and just getting my feelings out. I had someone talk to Moonshine about my blog and she said, Stop, I’m not allowed to read it and I was so mad because I blog to get this stuff out and not leave it in my head where I feel like it will explode, ala Scanners (1981).
I felt exposed and I didn’t like it because I want to be free to say what I want. I want to talk about my teen daughters dating and things that I’m upset about. Ultimately, I want to be able to vent, and I don’t want some asshat telling Tenderheart they know what she did or why she’s in trouble. So then why do I do this? Why not just take a pen to paper? Well, I did find an old-fashioned journal the other day from 2003. Man, it was pathetic. And maybe I should just fill that thing up, but I type faster than I write so I need some more options to keep my anonymity. I decided I’m not going to link it to my Twitter and Facebook anymore. I’m not going to become rich blogging because I’m not a self promoter so maybe I’ll just keep this for me. I don’t want to make it private because that seems like a hassle but maybe if most people just click on it via my Facebook, then I won’t even be in anyone’s thoughts.
Hopefully that works because my hand already feels a cramp coming on if I have to long hand this crap.