My blog is beyond pathetic.
I've grown very closed-off and private in the last couple of years. More than my old normal robotic quietness.
When I first moved to Chicago and started this blog, I was a stranger in a strange land. My friend Dawn had just died, my new job was stressing me out, and no one I met seemed to understand me at all. I needed an outlet to express my personality. Hello, blog.
Since then, I've grown comfortable. Chicago is home, and I like my job. However, now that I'm in management I have a lot more to lose if I get caught telling Stupid Customer stories on the internet. I spend eight hours a day in a retail-themed loony bin, but I can't really talk about it. Not here, anyway.
The things I angst out about now are generally things I'd rather not share. They either involve my own defectiveness, which is very boring to me, or other people, who wouldn't appreciate being talked about in my sad little blog.
There is one thing. I'm not going to angst about it, and I still don't really want to talk about it. When I tell people, it's because I hate pretending it didn't happen. I got pregnant in September, and I was really happy about it. I lost the pregnancy in November. I've been functioning in the world since then - going to work, watching tv, etc - and most people wouldn't guess that there's anything wrong. But I swear to god, if you ask me if I'm back to normal yet I will punch you in the throat. Same goes if you say it's for the best. The safest thing to say - the one response that will not lead to violence - is sorry. Because I appreciate your concern, and I'm sorry, too.
This isn't goodbye, blog. It's more sorry for the extended silence, blog. I'd rather not share, blog. It's not a great idea to splash fresh grief all over the internet, blog.
When I look back at my many interpersonal failures, I regret the feelings I've shared with people more than the feelings I've kept to myself. Which may be an example of my (boring) defectiveness, but I think it's relevant here.
I will probably post again. Everything is cyclical. Or, in nerdspeak, All of this has happened before, all of this will happen again.
I've grown very closed-off and private in the last couple of years. More than my old normal robotic quietness.
When I first moved to Chicago and started this blog, I was a stranger in a strange land. My friend Dawn had just died, my new job was stressing me out, and no one I met seemed to understand me at all. I needed an outlet to express my personality. Hello, blog.
Since then, I've grown comfortable. Chicago is home, and I like my job. However, now that I'm in management I have a lot more to lose if I get caught telling Stupid Customer stories on the internet. I spend eight hours a day in a retail-themed loony bin, but I can't really talk about it. Not here, anyway.
The things I angst out about now are generally things I'd rather not share. They either involve my own defectiveness, which is very boring to me, or other people, who wouldn't appreciate being talked about in my sad little blog.
There is one thing. I'm not going to angst about it, and I still don't really want to talk about it. When I tell people, it's because I hate pretending it didn't happen. I got pregnant in September, and I was really happy about it. I lost the pregnancy in November. I've been functioning in the world since then - going to work, watching tv, etc - and most people wouldn't guess that there's anything wrong. But I swear to god, if you ask me if I'm back to normal yet I will punch you in the throat. Same goes if you say it's for the best. The safest thing to say - the one response that will not lead to violence - is sorry. Because I appreciate your concern, and I'm sorry, too.
This isn't goodbye, blog. It's more sorry for the extended silence, blog. I'd rather not share, blog. It's not a great idea to splash fresh grief all over the internet, blog.
When I look back at my many interpersonal failures, I regret the feelings I've shared with people more than the feelings I've kept to myself. Which may be an example of my (boring) defectiveness, but I think it's relevant here.
I will probably post again. Everything is cyclical. Or, in nerdspeak, All of this has happened before, all of this will happen again.