Lately, I've been thinking about blogging. I do that. It used to be a huge part of my life and I still wish it was. I've been happy, though, just having my life be my own to keep in my pocket and not to shake out for the world to see.
Wanna know an embarrassing secret? I started blogging, in junior high, as a way to sort of feel like I had "a life." I felt like there was nothing and blogging was my way of saying, "SEE?! Cool stuff happens to me and this is proof!" Later on, it served as a way to share the ways of Washington state with the world, and then to document my new life in Switzerland, later to unwrap life with ADHD/SPD, then sharing of my travels...
but when bipolar hit, I didn't feel like sharing. Now, rad stuff happens, and I don't feel a compulsion to let the world know. They don't need to know. I'm learning to let moments slip by, a bit easier, and not find my satisfaction on backtracking to them over and over again during the slow seasons. I'm ok with where I am now and don't need such a strong reminder that there are ups and downs and I need the ups to get me through the downs.
(HAVEN'T I WRITTEN THIS EXACT SAME POST TEN TIMES BEFORE?)