I’ve had this blog for over 5 years. I’ve had a blog, in some form, for 15.
And I struggle.
That’s why weeks or months go by without a blog post. I don’t know what to write about consistently.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
The real issue is that I don’t write from a real place. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t lie about anything. Anything I’ve shared here is 100% true.
But I don’t usually talk about what I struggle with. I suppose I wasn’t at the place where I could just lay everything on the line. I worry about what people will think, even though I will tell you that I don’t care what people think. I worry about how what I say will affect my family. Real life people know about this blog, and I didn’t want people whispering about me and mine.
So I kept it safe.
So nobody knows that my husband’s health is way worse than I ever say. He’s not on his death-bed. If you met him, you’d never know he has so many things wrong with him. If you’ve been reading for the past few years, you know he had a stroke in 2012. You don’t know that he has Congestive Heart Failure, Chronic Kidney Disease, and a host of issues that go along with it.
I never write about the struggles I’ve had being a stepmother. I don’t tell you about the blended family problems that we face. I refuse to write about how dire our financial situation is. I’m not just robbing Peter to pay Paul; sometimes neither Peter or Paul get paid so that I can keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. You don’t know the frustration I feel that my husband can’t get a job due to his limitations, and I can’t work a second job because I’d probably kill myself doing it. I would NEVER tell you that I hate that I can’t go shopping for myself or my family for things that we like because I can barely afford the things that we need.
I never say that I’m stressed out all the time, or that my brain never shuts off from worrying about things.
I don’t talk about how I’m an introvert who rarely gets time to herself and that I feel like I might snap on somebody a lot of the time. I don’t share that I’m always exhausted and I feel like a need a whole month ALL BY MYSELF. NO kids, no hubby, no nothing.
I don’t share that I feel like I’m developing an ulcer.
I don’t talk about how I feel like I have no purpose. My job is just that: a job. But I know God has blessed me with talents and abilities that I could be using to help others and glorify Him. I just don’t have the time or the energy. I don’t know how to get paid doing those things.
Nope. I never talk about any of that. Because I don’t talk about what’s really going on, it’s difficult to talk about other things. And now I’m asking myself why? Does it really matter what anybody thinks about my life.
NO. It doesn’t matter.
Opinions are plentiful and meaningless.
But me getting things out? Not bottling it up?
I feel better already!