You want to know something pathetic AND disgusting? I’m sitting here reading pro-ana blogs (as in pro-anorexic) and I’m eating french vanilla ice cream by the spoonful. I seriously feel like barfing now. Oh the irony! Plus, being too lazy to actually get a bowl and serve it, I’m eating this shit right out of the carton. The sick part is that I actually relate to a lot of what these young delusional girls think about their lives/eating/bodies. They want control, no, they NEED control. They want perfection and until they get it, they will never be happy. Sadly, that statement is my life in a nutshell. Although you’d never think it by looking at me…

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My domain expires on December 18th. I’ve been ignoring the expiration notices, pretending like I don’t have a decision to make. It’s a decision, albeit not a very important one (comparatively speaking), that is going to be hard to make.

But… I think I’m going to let this domain go and cancel my hosting.

First time in 10 years that I won’t own a domain. Even though I have a shoddy track record with posting and I’ve never exactly had a plethora of readers, it feels almost sad and empty to come to this. I’m letting a part of me go. The part that wants to write & share and needs to be validated by putting it on the internet. The part of me who enjoys torturing her perfectionist self with code and web design.

I finally realize the fundamental problem. I let too many real life people know about this place. Too many family and friends visit here, waiting to see what I’ll have to say next. Not only is it a lot of pressure, it’s really confining.!I cannot write about what I really want to write about. I can’t say the things I really want to say. I can’t let the real voice inside of me come out. It would disturb people too much to know how truly screwed up I am inside. No matter how cathartic it would be for me, my messed up jumble of thoughts would only serve to worry those who care about me and/or give ammunition to those who don’t.

Sure, I can post endearing stories about the crazy things my kids say or do. I can bitch about the painful inconveniences of life. And I can slice it all up with humor & sarcasm, to make it consumable for everyone. To make it cute. And light. And somewhat normal. But I’m not being true to myself.

This is not what I ever intended by having a “blog”.

The reason why I go for long periods without writing is because I cannot say what is REALLY going on in my head. And it takes so much time/effort to craft up something happy and cute (with pictures to boot!). Honestly, it’s too much work to share the side of me that I want you to see, pushing back the me who hides in the shadows.

When I started blogging 10 years ago, I never sought out to be popular or well read. My only desire was for the emotional release of putting my thoughts out into the universe and for the creative release of tinkering with webdesign. Cheap therapy if you will! I will admit that I also longed for empathy. For someone to read what I had to say and to understand. To relate even! However, feeling so stifled and self-censoring myself so as to not scare my loved ones…

where
is
the
therapy
in
that?

Maybe I will just start a blog on a free service like blogspot or wordpress. I can revel in the anonymity and purge myself of this growing snowball of silent thoughts.