I’ve been pondering for a while whether I should start blogging again. My fingers are twitching and ideas are bubbling but is that a good enough reason?
Blogging can take over your life, the same as any obsession and I have a tendency to get carried away, my ideas become all consuming.
When I started writing almost 5 years ago it had a purpose. I needed to write to clear my head. I needed to make sense of my world after becoming a widow at 42.
Unravelling Edges and subsequently re-ravelling was a cathartic experience and I met many new friends along the way. It all helped at the time but then…
…there was, I hesitate to say a darker side, but I stumbled into a world where sharing my innermost thoughts became self-defeating.
Everything spiralled and my own self-importance grew as I believed my “readers” were hanging onto my every word.
In the end I didn’t like living in an artificial world, I lived in a virtual bubble and one day it went POP!
In the beginning I thought I would be “discovered”, I would write a best-selling book about my experiences, dispensing my wisdom and honesty would be the silver lining to the dark cloud that had crossed my path.
Of course these sorts of things only really happen in fairytales and Hugh Grant movies.
I went back to living in the real world…
… and that’s where I still reside today. Oh I still have dreams, I couldn’t live without them they are an essential part of my make-up but I have filled my life with REAL stuff and that’s OK.
So should I write again?
Well I certainly don’t think my words are filled with importance and this time I truly don’t care if no one else reads them.
The truth is I like to write, I like to play with words and phrases. I enjoy crafting them, shaping them creating the perfect sentence to express exactly what I want to say. I already keep a diary, some of it is the prosaic “what I did today” kind of stuff mixed in with personal stuff I’d never share in a blog in a million years, but blogging my thoughts is … different.
Which brings me to my title today “same … but different!”
It was something I remember saying a lot when I was growing up and that’s the point, I am still the same person I was all those years ago, I am the same person I was 5 years ago before Andrew died and the same person I was when I married him, the same person I was before the boys came along and after.
... but now the circumstances I find myself in are different.
… and then again, sometimes to my utter despair, lots of things haven’t changed a bit but I shall leave those thoughts for another day!