So, for me, yesterday's post was as good as blogging gets.
For some of you? Not so much.
But here is what I need everyone to know. (I think I explain this but I guess it bears repeating)
I blog for three reasons:
1. To entertain
2. To socialize
3. To process my feelings
Some rare moments I can pull off all three in one post. Sometimes I can't seem to pull off a single one in a full week of posts.
When I sit down to write (like I am this morning), I don't have a plan. I sit down and my fingers type and what I need to say seems to flow to the screen uninterrupted. It's a lot like lying down on an analysts couch.
And it is helpful. It is immensely helpful, therapeutic, and thought provoking FOR ME.
It's not about trying to gain sympathy, or validation, or readership, or (horrors) disdain.
It's about me sitting down and having 10 minutes to myself and seeing what comes bubbling up to the surface.
For weeks I've been stressed about the upcoming move (which is too legit to quit I might add). But I've also been feeling a layer of sadness that I wasn't even aware of.
Until the other night when I went to lay down and had the flood gates feeling. WTF? Why am I sad? Stressed and overwhelmed I got, but sad?
And then it came to me. And I sat down to write and it wasn't until I was typing that out from my fingers flowed the memory that I would see my Dad every 3 or so months.
Things like that happen all the time for me.
And I pay attention. And I listen. And I change.
It's not for you. It's for me.
I've talked about taproots before. Well this move triggered a taproot to a grief I've had buried for over 20 years. A grief I was too young to understand or process and so it lay there dormant.
Until now. Mr F moving for a better job. Leaving us here feeling stuck... it is an exact replay of what happened to me as a child.
Without knowing it I started laying on the grief of that to the current situation.
And THAT'S why things have seemed SO overwhelming, and undoable, and stressful (which they really are.... stressful that is... factually one of life's greatest stresses).
It hasn't been so much about the move as it has been about feeling the grief and hurt and stress of my father's move.
The fact that I have a place where I can allow myself to explore my feelings openly and honestly and without shame, allowed for me to make that connection.
It's allowed me to spend some time processing THOSE feelings. Making some peace with those hurts and those fears. Letting that sadness bubble up and OUT. So that it doesn't have to co-mingle and intensify what is going on with me today.
That's therapy. That's why therapy works. Because, now, having figured that out. Having identified the source of the fear and pain has allowed me to label it. To understand it. To move through it.
I don't have to repeat it just because the situation is similar. (apply to all things... dieting anyone?)
I think it is easy to forget (I do when reading others') that a post is just a snapshot of a moment of someone's day. It is not the entirety of their experience.
I can sit down to write and have the stress of our move come spilling up onto the key board. That's real. That's honest.
But that doesn't mean I don't have good days.
That I don't still laugh hysterically till I collapse on the floor. That I don't still wear dress socks while I workout in the living room. That I'm not still making dinner and making the beds. And everything else. I function. I succeed.
That is just one small raw moment.
Maybe that appears self indulgent, or immature, or dramatic, or naive, or whatever negative you'd like to insert.
I'm okay with that. It's just about the only thing I get to do that is for myself. And it works for me.
So, try not to take everything so literally.
I post these posts to help me sort it all out.
All of it.
How I put it together so that I don't let these things drag me down (too much).
I don't need to pretend things are perfect or I've got everything under control.
I'm not too concerned with reflecting well because I never thought that actually reflected well.
I'm most concerned with being well. And I don't know how to do that without, first, being honest.