It’s funny how long it’s been since I’ve written in my personal blogs. Every since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and be writer / photographer. At some points, artist and song-writer were on that list. Now, I’ve had the opportunity to be all of those things, and yet it’s my personal stories I no longer tell.
This week, I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog. It’s not something I’ve really shared with people in my personal life. I knew when I started this blog, I wanted to tell my secrets. I just didn’t know for sure which ones.
I had a tough childhood, but I decided long ago to stop whining about it. To move on and just appreciate my parents who both love me dearly and both did their absolute best. My marriage has been a roller coaster too.
My husband and I have a crazy love story, but we haven’t always shared love with one another. Sometimes I’m in the middle of our family, a dozen people most days, and I feel completely alone. Like no one here really knows me.
At some point, one of my first loves sort of showed back up in my life. And I truly considered having some great love affair with him. Because he knows me in ways no one else does. It exhilarating when someone reads you on that level. It’s exciting. And I thought about confessing all the juicy tidbits here. But I’m a chicken, or I’m boring. Maybe both. I never went through with the great love affair, and decided instead to resurrect the great friendship. At first, I was mad that I had morals, and couldn’t just ignore them. But now I’m glad I didn’t ruin things by turning away from the commitments I’ve made. And I’m glad I didn’t complicate life for all these kids I love so dearly.
But I still have confessions. And maybe now I can take a step back and write them. I’m not sure if I want to work through all the hurts in my heart or dig through all the dreams in my head. I don’t even know if anyone reads this blog anymore. But I’ve decided to write something just for me. Whether I get one like or fifty.
So here’s my confession for the day. I’m struggling to think straight. It’s a neurological issue. So far, no one has truly realized. But sometimes people say “I told you this” or “you told me that,” and I have no idea what they’re talking about. It wouldn’t be a big deal, except that I was the know-it-all, say-it-all and remember-it-all of my family.
My sister is forty-one and dealing with early on-set dementia because of the blood cancer we share. I don’t want to think negative, but this week, my doctor refused to refill my medicines until I did new lab work. She kept asking me questions, even calling a day after our visit. It was wonky. She made me promise to come back in a few days. It shook me up a little bit.
I tried to talk to my husband, but he doesn’t understand. I don’t want to upset my children. So I have no idea where to put this information to get it off my mind. So I lay it here, and pray that tonight I find some sleep. It’s been about nine days since I could rest. My neuropathy is flared up and there are too many things running through my mind.
But I’ll save those burdens for tomorrow. Because there’s nothing else I can do today to make things any better. Except close my eyes. Maybe tomorrow I’ll find a way to work through the kinks keeping me awake. Or I’ll go get a pedicure with my daughter for a little mental tune-up. Either way, I’m done for today. See you on the other side of the moon.
Constant Confessions 