I read a lot of nonfiction. Any subject from nutrition and fitness to intelligence, birth order, addiction and so much more. I find these topics fascinating. Sometimes I find it difficult to “just” read. I want to share, I want to discuss.
In January of 2013 I made the decision to blog. My assumption was, I write, people read, discussion follows. Quickly I realized that I had to put some work in to it if I wanted people to look at my posts. Within a couple of months, I had over 100 fellow bloggers following me. The next realization I had was that, like Facebook, people collect people, friends, and followers. The majority of these people do not comment and I assume do not even read most posts. There is a small percentage who “like” and a handful who comment.
I never considered myself a writer or a photographer but I do both on my blog. I struggle with the writing more than the photography. I will continue to post and enjoy that handful of people I interact with as they make it worth it. Thank you to them!
This is for day 3 of Blogging 101. Penny for your thoughts.
When you first thought about blogging, you had a post idea; something you wanted to say, a photo to share, a story on the tip of your brain. Maybe you just wanted to cultivate a writing habit — but you probably had an idea for a post, no matter how nascent. Today, you’ll write it.
I finished a book a couple days ago and have been in a funk since then. The book is “All the Dancing Birds”. It is fiction and the story is about a woman with Alzheimer’s, written from her perspective. It goes from the beginning of her diagnosis to the end of her life. I liked the book but every night when I stopped reading, I felt sad, lonely, depressed and scared. I put myself in her place or thought about My Michaels mother, who just passed away in August. I watched my Papa die in the 1980’s with this disease. When I came in to Michael’s life, they had just put his Mom in a nursing home. That was August of 2011. I had firsthand experience with her dementia and how it affected the family. This book was probably more powerful for that reason. With all that said, my funk isn’t even about Alzheimer’s. When I get depressed, which isn’t often anymore, all my insecurities come rushing forward. Some of them I won’t discuss with anyone but my man and I only journaled about them. Others are okay to list. I get those stupid, insecure, I’m not good enough/smart enough/young enough/thin enough thoughts. Really hate those as they bring in other crap. Then there is the, I don’t have enough money in the bank and should go get a job. With that comes, I am too old to get a job (except Walmart) and I don’t want a job. I take on my son’s problems, my ex’s health issues, siblings problems. I wonder if I was supposed to stay in my marriage and accept the fear, loneliness, pain and stress. Sometimes I just want to talk and I don’t want girlfriends and all that goes with it. I have sisters to discuss things with but they have busy lives and don’t need to deal with my funk. So, my journal got most of my feelings this time, you got a very short edition of it and My Michael and I will talk tonight over some wine, a fire and Kleenex. I am planning on being “all good” tomorrow. Why did I put this out there? I think all the stresses I have had in my life, have mostly been kept inside. I am sure it contributed to my melanoma in ’05 and I am working on letting go. You get to be my shrink.