Maybe I’m just in a really pissy mood today due to a combination of things, but it strikes me extra hard today that they are mostly things I cannot blog about. And that pisses me off even more.
I started blogging because I wanted to keep a record for our kids of how they grew and developed and to remember and celebrate the awesomeness that they are. And often I do. BUT I’m irritated because I think that I am leaving behind such a sanitised version of our life. I don’t do passive aggressive or cryptic very well, so often I just leave stuff out lest I sound too whiny and miserable. (which means that I end up not blogging for days on end because I just can’t summon the energy to do upbeat or quirky and funny)
Not that I am miserable or that my life is unhappy, very far from it. I appreciate that we all have issues and that you cannot wait on happiness or fulfillment, you create that for yourself. Or so my therapist tells me. (something I probably shouldn’t blog about either)
So I can’t blog about the person that has owed me money for more than a year and how it threatens my family and how bloody angry I am about it. Enough already.
I can’t blog about the horrific things that come out of a family member’s mouth and how I fervently wish not to be like that person and then catch myself doing exactly the same. I really really really hate that. There are lots of unresolved issues there. Can you tell? (have I mentioned the Therapist-we-shall-not-mention?)
I can’t really blog about how someone has pissed me off beyond belief at work and that I have to pander to childishness and drama. I have no words to explain how much I hate drama. In the bigger scheme of things it isn’t such a big thing, but it’s still not something fit for public consumption.
I can’t blog about the stuff that really affect me emotionally and how I am trying to change instinctive reactions and coping mechanisms of the last almost 40 years and the irreversible impact it has on the relationships with people close to me. That is just too raw. Thank God for Etienne, the kids and vodka.
I can’t blog about how much I hate my bathroom scale despite eating the right foods and walking grooves in our neighbourhood street. Oh wait. That I can blog about. Fuck. I hate that bathroom scale, I avoid it like the plague. And I shall be chucking it out the bathroom window on recommendation of someone whose opinion I value greatly. (see how I did cryptic right there?)
What is there you don’t blog about, if anything? What are your big No-No’s?