I have three drafts in my bin waiting to be published but they are more or less (for lack of a better word) lame. I’m sure all the ones I’ve posted are border line uninteresting but I really don’t know what to say I guess. Honestly, I’ve been playing the “safe” card which probably is both on the bloggers do and don’t list depending on who you talk to.
I took this weekend to kind of reflect, if you could call it that. I don’t know what I’m doing really. I mean, do any of us? Are any of us ever satisfied? I feel like I’m in the same spot I was in three years ago only with a better paying job and a nicer apartment. I don’t have any idea what to do with my life. Is that unusual for a 24 year old woman? Maybe it’s social media rubbing everyone else’s lives in my faces and not giving me a chance to decide where I should be. Married, two babies, a big house, horses, lots of land, long gravel driveways, concerts, parties, promotions, masters degree…What am I doing?
I’m playing the pity party game, that’s what.
Part of this whole new blogging adventure is to find myself and to forgive myself. To deal with the decisions I’ve made and if I’m not happy; than to change them. Well how the hell are we supposed to do that? It’s impossible. Everything has a price tag. It’s not the price tag that is frightening it’s the amount on that price tag. It’s down right expensive to do anything. From traveling to buying a home to starting a family to going back to school, it’s fucking insane.
What did I do on this fine Sunday night? I watched six episodes of GIRLS and am downloading 24 years worth of CD’s onto my computer. Right on! Wrong.
I was talking to my brother yesterday about my blog and about how I didn’t know where to really go with it. His response was: Well it’s a blog isn’t it? Don’t you just write? Sure, but what do I write about? Do I write about my life or do I write about frilly happy things? The last time I was bluntly truthful, I received backlash from twelve different directions. I wasn’t always offensive but there were posts that may have been. They were opinionated and sometimes not always the popular opinion. They were personal and raw. Really real. I had family, friends, friends of the family, random people, you name it; play telephone with my personal life like they were front and center. Now, I’m not having a total out bitch fest because I knowingly blogged to the world and it was open for everyone to see; it was just the fact that I shared pieces of me and the absolute ignorance of people that I actually know – fired at me as if I were Hitler. But as soon as all hell broke loose, I stopped writing about the truth and I candy coated everything. I couldn’t trust anyone with my life and I wasn’t happy.
The truth is, those posts are the ones I felt the best with afterwords. I felt like I was actually able to take the bottled up emotion out and put it to good use. It was freeing even if some people didn’t like it. And for me, looking back, it is a record of how far I’ve come. We often forget about the big things, that at the time, make or break us. They more often than not get pushed back into to small moments that we vaguely remember or usually even forget. But when it’s written down and re-read years later, it’s still pure and alive.
So I guess before we say “enough about that” I’m really just at a cross roads. Should I use my blog as a creative outlet about my life? Not that’s it’s overly exciting but that would provide me with the most obvious source of material. Or..do I pull snip-its from parts of my day here and there and end up with a mediocre (no one will take offense to) blog?
My first followers blog title is actually “A Good Blog Is Hard To Find.” Is that a sign that maybe I should just go for it?