So... You may have noticed I've been missing for... a while. And you may think that this is going to be one of those periodic, "Oh I'm so sorry and I'll do better posts," but it's not.
Here's the thing. November. Well, November sucked. Right and properly. I've been up, I've been down and I've been all around. Sometimes I don't know that I'm really having a rough time until I start to come out of it a little. And then I realize that I've been barely holding on for so long my fingers are bleeding.
Figuratively and literally (I'm a horrific nail biter.)
It's come to my attention that I am over stressed. I say this knowing that 90% of the population is over stressed. Stress is the elevator music of our lives: annoying, familiar and ever present. But lately I've been more. It hasn't been elevator music, it's been teenage boys living next door blasting their music at all hours until your foundations shake.
And I wonder why. I mean, I know why. I have a stressful job, I'm a single mom, I volunteer too much and then feel guilty that I'm not volunteering enough. I'm a natural caretaker and I worry about everyone around me.
But I really think that it's not what I stress about that's the problem, but how I deal with it. Which is to say that I don't. I tamp it down and tell myself I shouldn't worry so much and keep right on stressing. What I need to do is to step away from the stress, from all the things that worry me.
And now we're back to where we started. This blog. This blog has become stressful. I started out just writing because I wanted to write and then I decided that I wanted the blog to be good. I began to worry about what was entertaining, what was interesting and what was the right thing to say.
I began to worry about "how to write a blog." I tried to write even when I didn't have anything to say because the experts say that consistency is king. I didn't write when I did have something to say because the experts say to avoid certain topics. I didn't write when I had something to say because I didn't want to worry anyone or make anyone mad or hurt anyone.
And a little at a time, I shriveled up and died. Because that's not what this is for. My original name, Notes from a Scattered Mind, was exactly what I wanted to do - just random, all over the place, notes about everything. And my new title, Saving My Sanity for Posterity, is accurate too. I'm just trying desperately to get it all down, to get it all out.
To remember how Brynna begs me to read books she loves because she wants to share that with me and how Maren swears she hates books while begging me to read another chapter of Bunnicula. But it's more than that, too. I also want to get out there how I feel, who I am. I want to put it all out there, because one day I'll be gone, or I'll be someone else and I want to be able to remember me the way I am. Not only the way I want people to think I am.
So, this isn't an apology. It's a warning. I'm coming back. It won't be regular or methodical. It won't be perfect. I'll talk about everything. I'll cuss. My posts will be too long and too short and too angry. I'll have all caps and no caps. I'll have embarrassing admissions. It will be a mess. Because I'm a mess. But this is one mess I don't ever want to forget.