I started this blog on 29th December 2010, more like seven months on really.
I am quite genuinely pleased that I’ve kept going with it and haven’t given up. On the more positive side it has done me a lot of good. I have written about topics that would have kept going round and round in my head if I hadn’t put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and it has forced me to take time to think about me, something I’m still not keen on doing.
I have on various occasions as a child tried to keep a diary but found it pointless. To write of daily events seemed to me incredibly boring and if I wrote of my miseries then I didn’t want to read them again so what was the point. I did write of a fantasy life inside my head but I was so worried that someone might find it and read it that I tore it up into tiny little pieces and got rid of it.
I think I also didn’t want to write or take pleasure in it because I had missed out on so many years of schooling in English which did make a big difference but more importantly because my father made a living out of writing and my scrawls could never match up to his. I once made a book with painstakingly hand drawn pictures for my mother’s birthday and never saw it again.
So, over the years I’ve had to write, official letters or work-related documents and I’ve had to learn for myself how to be clear and concise, how to express myself. It has taken me a long time to learn that I can do it and not see these things with panic. However this is the first time I have really tried writing for pleasure or because I want to.
I sometimes wonder about whether I will ever stop being anonymous on here, whether I will come out on my ‘real’ twitter feed with people who know me in real life and say, come visit the real me over here. I wonder if I could send a link to my parents whether they would recognise themselves here or wonder why on earth I’d sent it. I do sometimes think I could send the link to 1sis and she would read and appreciate but I also think she might decide to tell my parents for me. I hide behind the thought that I can only be totally honest about my children and talk about them if I never let them or their friends see it but I wonder if that’s an excuse. I worry about what acquaintances would think, or work colleagues, people I don’t really know, and the odd person who I don’t really like and wouldn’t want to share my story with.
The reality is of course, that is doesn’t matter. I write this for me. Having readers, both real friends, internet only friends and total strangers is great and ensures that I don’t just ramble on but try and focus on a topic and expressing myself clearly. But I don’t need a huge number of them although I would appreciate the wider conversation. I try not to play the numbers games as it’s not really relevant although secretly I would love to wake up one morning to find that lots of people had been reading me.
I expect changes in the next six months: I’ll come to an end with my current counsellor for one thing. I don’t expect any other major changes in my life but 3son will be starting his secondary school and 4son will be alone in his. Hopefully 1son will be at college and 2son will settle into CATE. It all could give me more time and space to focus on me and the question is whether I will actually do it.