Monday, September 25, 2006

What can I say?

A real sweetheart of a blogger (and a much better movie-goer than I, sigh of envy) wrote this during an email exchange the other day:
Your life is shrouded in mystery... heh It sounds like you're dealing with lots (both good and challenging), but you keep it to yourself mostly (not that
it's a bad thing, just an observation).

And it got me to thinking, that this is true and yet oddly not. I mean, I think I have become much more open since I began blogging, and what I mean by that is, I tend to be more frank than I was before. I mean, heck. Why not be honest? I like to think that I'm still diplomatic, but I also feel that having this (more or less regular) outlet for my thoughts and feelings has made me more comfortable with them, and with myself; more myself, I guess. Or more who I'm becoming.

But this is what is happening to me in the real world, the walking around world. Here in this world, the typing at all hours of the day and night world, I am still more honest but more compartmentalized. I mean, I don't talk about my job, because come on, I read Dooce. And I talk about my kids, but not in any particular depth, or not very often. And I don't talk very much about the people in my life, because first I feel this is something of an invasion of their privacy, and I don't want one of them to bust me one day, recognizing themselves here even with the fake names and so forth.

And right now, I would really like to talk about some hard things that are happening, but I don't, because ... because they aren't really mine to tell, so much. Because I feel like I've said them before. Because I don't want the people involved to feel invaded if posts were ever to come to light. Because it's all been said before, and done before, and frankly I'm so tired of it. And the interest of relating it just isn't there. It's a story stuck in a loop, and I don't really want to be there in the loop with it. It affects me, but I like to think I have set boundaries to keep it from affecting me as much as it used to do. I think I might write something, but then? I get tired of it. You know?

And I guess that's the blogging hazard...what am I saying? What do I have to say? Why would you care anyway?