I’ve been wishing to blog my therapy session but once again feeling guilty about how open I’m being. I wonder if I’m hurting anyone, or being inappropriate. If Ron did read what I write, would he be upset? Obviously this is all from my point of view, and some of it is misremembered or approximate.
Luckily my readership is small, and I don’t go looking for more readers. I also keep this blog anonymous, including where I live. However, there are tentacles linking me to a few people. I’ve met two friends through the blog, IRL. I’ve mentioned it’s existence to a few people I know without giving an address or name.
A few years ago, when writing a different blog, I gave a friend a link to it. We’re no longer friends. In the meantime, this blog got a lot more personal. I’d be uncomfortable if I thought he read it.
I talked about the blog quite a bit with R, and he was supportive of the idea. I wonder if a determined search would bring it up? When I do a casual google search, my blog doesn’t appear. I don’t spend a lot of time trying to find it though. If R read my blog, that would be bad. I was open about some feelings about him that were personal and private.
I will never write about people I know read this except in the most general terms. And mostly, I don’t describe friends’ dilemmas, or much about my work situation.
But I’m being very open about an intimate experience.
Writers do that actually, IMO. You write about what hurts, what is next to your heart. But usually in more disguised form.
I find the benefits of writing here great. Getting things down in written form tends to make it seem more manageable. Then I value the interaction with those kind souls who take the time to comment and share their experiences with me.
Somehow writing privately is not the same. I want someone to read I suppose. I want to communicate.
Some bloggers who are lovely writers, and whose blogs I enjoy, have written about the ‘badness’ of exposing one’s weaknesses, troubles and failings. It’s not emphasizing the positive, it’s embarrassing oneself. It’s Oprah in blogging form, a kind of degraded emotionalism. Or something.
This is exactly what my mother would feel.
So since that is the case, it can’t be true.
OK, I feel better. I’ll likely continue on with my evil ways.