Dear blog,
I know others may be listening, but I have something I need to say.
I have been writing elsewhere!! Don’t take it personally, but sometimes you PUBLISH my writing. What are you thinking? On the rare occasion I have written something personal and probably too honest, you publish it!!
I have decided that I want the world to read my story. I have research’d, read, been educated, seminar’d, counsel’d, and shrink’d. And I have not run into any story like mine. And yet we are all so similar.
I have decided to write my experience of depression in an auto-biography. Except that requries writing. Like in sentences. With punctuation and stuff. Hmph. I’m thinking a ghost writer may be necessary. But then will I have the pride in it that I have now?
As far as writing goes, I’ve written tons – I’ve written my heart out – I’ve been typing to my bones. At least 2 pages. It took me nearly an hour this morning. But I didn’t back-space or delete. I wrote my heart out.
I want every woman, everywhere to be warned. I want to strip away the doubts of those who think they may need help.
I want to poke holes in the pride of those silly Moms who think they can do it all if they just try a bit harder.
I want relatives and friends to know what some moms are going through. We have a lot of nonsense out there on parenting. We have pressure from every. single. front. We believe to our very core, in the value, the difficulty, and importance of children. We believe that the very foundation of the world all rests on how we raise our children. It is up to us!
Our children – will they breath fresh air?
Will they know how to make decisions? Think intelligently?
Will they be respectful, kind, and giving?
Will they be compassionate and hard working?
Well, if you look hard enough you’ll see that the message we receive – is that it depends on their parents.
Does it? Really? I have no idea. I don’t know, I really don’t. But I know me. I know that I have limits. And I think I know other women too. Women I talk to, women who email me, women in the psychiatrist’s office, women on anti-depressants, women with children.
Take away all the pressure, all the expectations, and all the self – incrimination, and you are left with a woman. Just a woman. You. Me. And I have a story to tell.
And i want it published. for the WORLD to read. But I don’t want you to know its ME. I have to think of a psycho-name. I mean pseudoname. Carol Anne. Or Suzanne Clark. Those sound like authors, no?
Social Networking is the sincerest form of flattery.
Dear blog,
I know others may be listening, but I have something I need to say.
I have been writing elsewhere!! Don’t take it personally, but sometimes you PUBLISH my writing. What are you thinking? On the rare occasion I have written something personal and probably too honest, you publish it!!
I have decided that I want the world to read my story. I have research’d, read, been educated, seminar’d, counsel’d, and shrink’d. And I have not run into any story like mine. And yet we are all so similar.
I have decided to write my experience of depression in an auto-biography. Except that requries writing. Like in sentences. With punctuation and stuff. Hmph. I’m thinking a ghost writer may be necessary. But then will I have the pride in it that I have now?
As far as writing goes, I’ve written tons – I’ve written my heart out – I’ve been typing to my bones. At least 2 pages. It took me nearly an hour this morning. But I didn’t back-space or delete. I wrote my heart out.
I want every woman, everywhere to be warned. I want to strip away the doubts of those who think they may need help.
I want to poke holes in the pride of those silly Moms who think they can do it all if they just try a bit harder.
I want relatives and friends to know what some moms are going through. We have a lot of nonsense out there on parenting. We have pressure from every. single. front. We believe to our very core, in the value, the difficulty, and importance of children. We believe that the very foundation of the world all rests on how we raise our children. It is up to us!
Our children – will they breath fresh air?
Will they know how to make decisions? Think intelligently?
Will they be respectful, kind, and giving?
Will they be compassionate and hard working?
Well, if you look hard enough you’ll see that the message we receive – is that it depends on their parents.
Does it? Really? I have no idea. I don’t know, I really don’t. But I know me. I know that I have limits. And I think I know other women too. Women I talk to, women who email me, women in the psychiatrist’s office, women on anti-depressants, women with children.
Take away all the pressure, all the expectations, and all the self – incrimination, and you are left with a woman. Just a woman. You. Me. And I have a story to tell.
And i want it published. for the WORLD to read. But I don’t want you to know its ME. I have to think of a psycho-name. I mean pseudoname. Carol Anne. Or Suzanne Clark. Those sound like authors, no?
Social Networking is the sincerest form of flattery.