Posting things here can be an exercise in facing embarrassment. There are some who peruse these posts and know exactly of whom I am writing. Meanwhile, there are others for whom this blog is an abstract. I never knew how challenging it could be to lay one’s self so bare in such a semi-public arena.
What I fear the most is that those who know me fairly well are reading this. Or that some who read my blog know of whom I am writing, when I hope that they do not. There is much to be gleaned about me from these posts, but there is also much missing. As I have mentioned before, this seems to have become a repository for my internal dialogue, which is never reasonable, and usually rather frightening.
The people who know me best are usually willing to take what I post here as a small part of the whole. But, for anyone looking for an insight into me, these can be jarring.
I have much for which I am thankful, and should exercise that more here. But, no one has never had to ease their mind from being too happy, have they? And this is an outlet for emotions and thoughts that have no place among polite company. More or less.
I re-read yesterday’s post and feel really strange about it. Very vulnerable. I feel that I want to either delete it and act as if those thoughts were merely fleeting, or find some way to guarantee that the actual human beings involved in those thoughts would read it. More lack of patience, I suppose.
It has been another week of introspection, which usually is not a good thing. It can be terrifying to find out what you are really like, or at least how you perceive yourself.