After sharing my life with those who have been willing and/or interested to read about it, I’ve been thinking how weird all this is. Writing all about me is so NOT me. Or at least I didn’t think it was. I have generally kept all my feelings to myself. The years spent in the “I’m Fine” category (as so eloquently written by Message in a Bottle in his “I’m Fine” (I want to die) blog) are now in the “I’m not so fine” category. I still hold to the idea that no one needs to know if I’m having a good day or bad day. Or if my life currently sucks. My life, my problem, I’ll deal with it.
My family had their suspicions that I drank too much. One of my sister’s used to joke that my dinners consisted of beer, chips and salsa. A lot of them did 🙂 But, no one actually knew how much or when or why. I have been by myself for so long that I can seek refuge in my home and drink all I want. Actually, even when I go out to drink, I’m alone and don’t have to hold myself accountable to anyone. None of my family has ever seen me really drunk. Well, that may not be exactly true. When my kids were pretty young, I had a time (or 2) when I was drunk around them, but I don’t know if they knew it. They certainly weren’t going to say anything if they did! As they got older, I kept the drunk away as much as I could. My memory may be a bit messed up, but when I was younger, I drank on Friday night and was generally inebriated after the kids had gone to bed. It’s as I got older and lonelier that I began drinking nightly. Kids grown and gone. That’s when it hit me that maybe I was an alcoholic. I had denied it for so many years.
Anyway, I got a little sidetracked there — it just seems odd to me that after hiding myself from even those closest to me for 40 years, I’m all of a sudden spilling my guts and telling them every detail of my life, of my day to day struggles. Why? It’s like night and day. I want them to know, but I don’t, not really. And how boring it must be to read about someone doing the same stupid thing over and over and over and over and over……again. When I read a blog, I want to be enlightened, motivated, and moved; enjoy a good read, a great poem, and a well written prose; have a good laugh or a good cry. My blog does not do that. It’s a whine-fest by me about my life. Boo hoo and b o r i n g. Time to change things up a bit.