I’ve never done a blog challenge, as I generally don’t like to be prompted to write and I don’t consider myself to be a blogger in the now-popular way the word is used. I use writing to get shit out of my head (as I’m sure you have noticed), not for any other reason, really.
But lately all of the things I’ve written have stayed as drafts in my gmail draft folder on my iphone instead of being posted. Since I stopped using twitter (mostly because I found I only thought to go to twitter when I wanted to say something negative or complain about someone with 68 items in the 15 or less checkout lane), I became a much bigger fan of Instagram. Not as much negative, although not a totally positive zone, and I prefer to see pictures of food and feet on beaches and all of your babies (or children or unborn babies) than to read (or write) short messages complaining about something/everything. It was just draining me.
But, at the same time, I feel like my posts to this blog have gotten less personal and more sporadic. I rarely talk about how I really feel anymore, with some exceptions. I’ve kept a lot in, where it’s safe, which is something I’ve never done in my 8+ years of blogging. It’s different now. It’s not all about me anymore. I cared a whole lot less what people thought of me (even if I still did care) than I care what people see/think/feel/believe about my relationship.
And I feel like it’s become fake.
As much as I’ve always hated commercial bloggers, or those bloggers who only talk about the good things in life, not the reality, I feel like I’ve become that. Only without the money-making part. I never thought of blogging as a money-maker and I likely never will. I have no desire to throw out phrases like “Things are really hard for me right now, but I won’t go into that here” because I fucking hate when bloggers do that shit. Those words simply make me stop reading that blog. Shit is hard for all of us – in our own ways – and if you don’t want to talk about it just don’t. Don’t bring up how hard things are and then say you don’t want to talk about it. That’s stupid.
The blogs I read (aside from the 8,610 food blogs) are the ones that are real. All truth. Good, bag and ugly. Because that’s reality and reality is what I relate to. I fully understand that reading/writing these “real blogs” as I call them doesn’t mean I get/give the full picture of life. But they’re more real than the Dooces and the Carrots ‘n Cakes of the blog world. Seriously.
But I get why they do what they do. Really. They are quitting their jobs, blogging full time, and they are keeping the masses happy. I care for none of this. I just want real.
All this to say, I’m at a standstill and I’m considering a September blog challenge. I haven’t found one, although I think I easily can, but maybe I need to get my creative juices flowing again. Maybe I need to forget how I hate canned posts about prescribed topics and just do it. It might make me feel better.
Because I’ve been feeling low these past few months. I won’t talk about it here…just kidding. It’s true. I’m checked out. I’m hanging by this house thing with strings so thin they could break at any moment. I need a project to distract me from how depressed and unhappy I’ve been. Which is stupid seeing as I love my new job, company and co-workers (with exceptions). I love the fact that I’m getting married soon (except for the stupid, silly expectations CP’s mom has for me) and I love that I get full reign on decorating my new house (without any limitations except budget). I love all those things, yet I pretty much hate my life. Sad, no? Yes. Totally sad.
So I’m gonna find a blog challenge by googling “September blog Challenge” and running with it.
Good. Bad. Ugly. Reallly ugly. You’ll get it all.
And you can feel free to unsubscribe to reality as you feel fit. Won’t bother me any. I hope.
Because for the last 2 months I’ve had recurring dreams of my ideal love. Dreams that make me wake up asking if I’m in the right place. Dreams that scare me, yet make me feel so warm at the same time. Dreams that make me want to go back to sleep to get more.
And when I wake up and see CP I feel guilty. He’s my dream when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep I have so much more.
For that reason I’ll find a blog challenge. Maybe to remind myself why I fell in love with him. Maybe to not feel so bad when I read all your love stories that aren’t as pretty as ours. Maybe to make myself feel better. Maybe just to have something to write about.
Sent from my iPhone
Suburban Mixup 