I’ve been debating with myself over the possibility of writing a
more extremely serious post. It’s something that I feel could go one of two ways:
1. I purge something that I’ve held in for about 25 years, and I get it off my chest, finally – enabling me to move past it.
2. I scrape raw a half-healed wound that could send me spiralling further into depression and anxiety than I already am.
Still unsure of whether or not to write it, much less post it, so I’m waffling.
Geminis are good at waffling.
And french toasting. As long as I remember not to butter the skillet. (Read: FIRE ALARM and house full of smoke)
Sorry, I’m also good at covering up pain with humor. The mask behind the mask is just a mask.
I wrote yesterday about blogging being good therapy, being able to write things down, get them out, and “scream into the darkness to see what screams back.” This? Would scream back. Loudly, I think.
But, I recently got in touch with an old friend, someone who has always been able to make me talk, even when I really, really didn’t want to. This person has caused more verbal blurting in the past couple of weeks than I think I’ve done in a long time. I hear his voice in my head now, telling me that if I’m going to talk about it at all, to just say it. Just – say it. And there will be no judgments, no recriminations, no heckling. Just typing that, I hear his voice, and it makes me tear up in response.
I must be totally mad.
Because, I’m going to write it.
Not today, but soon. And it may not be open to the public. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of….. publicity… yet. But, I promise, for those of you that really want it, and you know who you are, I’ll forward the password if I do protect it.
Baby steps… but I think I’m almost ready.