Some day's I believe I put too many details of my life into these blogs, and others I honestly do not think I put enough. The balance of personal and intimate depends on the day, on my stress level, on how I am feeling that day. I do not write these to get attention, but to let it all out, to breathe, to purify myself in a way that exercising normally would do, but can't at this time. I won't lie, some of the stuff I write, as true as it is, gives me shivers down my skin. Not from the amount of pressure I put onto myself, but the absence of that feeling as it leaves through my finger tips to the keyboard in front of me. The release of the pressure inside that would normally get held in until I become an emotional freak. This is my release, and because of it, i am slightly healthier then I would be if I was not writing every so often, if I was holding it in, hiding the pain and annoyance away from the rest of the world. I cry or laugh or smile as I write each and every blog, the feeling of the pressure laving the body is amazing, relaxing, meditating, and almost as good as practicing your heart out for an hour or too. You know that good soreness, the exhaustion that comes not only from a good workout, but by putting every little fiber of your being into it? That's what writing does for me, its my other release. (yes, I am crying as I write this)
Now the only question is why blogging, why not journal it in a small notebook that no one would ever see? I blog it because of the thrill that someone else may read this and use it to their own advantage, that they may learn from my mistakes, arguments, or the possibility of a success and better their own life from it. Or for the occasional laugh at a corny joke made here or there, the irrationality of being afraid of basements, or the thoughts of what Barbie would truly be like. I blog it all to give myself an announcement to the world, letting know that hey, I am not ever going to be the perfect little girl my parents dreamed of, or the dream girl to bring home to mom.
That is why I blog the things I do, the release, the relaxation that comes after my cheeks are dripping tears and typing at the same time, the thought and thrill of maybe someone like me feeling the same things and reading. Its the burst of emotion and power coming out of my fingers and into this small bit of web real estate. Its the things I cannot physically say out loud, but I need to get out anyways. Therapists always say that the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem, well this is my admittance. This is my piece of the world where I can imagine and believe that someone is listening to me, and to be honest, it is better than therapy. Here I cry, laugh, and watch my dreams come into bloom by getting my insecurities out into the open where I can then rationalize them and realize how flawed they are. So here goes the plunge, into the deep, into the unknowing, but I can at least think that someone will be there to catch me as I fall. My name is Laurel Lee Homa, and I have a problem...
No comments:
Post a Comment