I used to write in a journal. Like good old fashioned pencil (or pen) on paper writing.
I kind of packed them up one day and never did it again. I'm not sure what made me quit. Maybe the fact that I felt like I wasn't being totally honest, that the "feelings" I was writing about were minimized or just not even addressed.
So what's the point even, if you're not being honest, or even if you are omitting certain significant things because maybe you just don't want to see it written out loud. As if not seeing it makes it not true.
I think that's kind of why I mostly quit blogging when I did. When I got the vibe that people I knew might actually be reading what I wrote, I pretty much panicked. It felt a little bit like someone I knew found my diary and read every last word.
It's funny, writing a public blog when you feel like in general, you're a pretty private person. Like, the me that I typically put out there in the world is definitely a censored, less mentally unstable version of myself. Because let's face it, I'm slightly mental. Or, what's the opposite of slightly? Considerably? Completely? Maybe somewhere in that realm of crazy.
I'm pretty much ok with that. I mean, I've lived with myself for my whole life, so, you know, I get me. But I don't think anyone else really gets me, and that's my own fault. Like, when you censor yourself to appear "normal" or to fit in, you're really presenting a different version of you. And if someone likes the you that you are most often presenting, they don't even know who they like.
Well that just got confusing right there.
I have no idea what the point of this post is. I'll go out on a limb and suggest that there really is no point, I'm just rambling away for no apparent reason.
I'll leave it at that.