- for personal use?
- to meet kindred spirits?
- to join the pack of stay-at-home mom bloggers?
- to keep our extended family updated on our happenings?
- to encourage me to launch my own business?
- to satisfy some narcissistic need?
- to vent?
- to feel less lonely, more connected?
The answer is yes. All of the above and probably more. Well, it's time to redirect this blog to a wholehearted narcissistic offering... an online journal. Journaling has always calmed me down, led me to answers, and unweighted my shoulders. BUT, I can't seem to stick to it on paper. Since I have this here blog, and I'm not so inspired lately as to what to fill it with, I challenge myself to journal in this forum every day for the next month. If I succeed, perhaps I will challenge myself to another month, or manage to commit to a journal on paper, or just give myself a big pat on the back. I'm a little nervous to unload this information on the "interwebs" (quoting a dear friend), but really, what do I have to hide anyway?
Nada, and that's what this first entry is about. Am I boring? I've always been the good girl, never got in trouble, valedictorian, faithful friend, long-term relationships. Because of this role, I have long been terrified of being boring, uninteresting. I've also always been the Listener, and thus, I've never developed the gift of gab or wittiness. Yes, I'm known to be quite hard on myself, so I probably over-react. But, chances are if you ask me what I did last weekend, I won't be able to answer. Why? Because, a) I can't remember, even when it might have been an extra-ordinary weekend, and b) I probably have developed this sort-of short-term memory loss to prevent me from having to talk about myself. If you ask me how I am, I almost always answer with an attempt at sounding energetic, "Good, how are you?" with a big smile. It's my default, because honestly, this question makes me uncomfortable. It means, "let's start a conversation," and that unleashes the beat-up beast that says, "you have nothing interesting to say."
I know everyone (well, maybe not Zen masters) has that "voice" that occasionally or constantly, depending on the person, beats you up. All the books in the world haven't swallowed that voice. But, really, that's all it is, a voice, my voice. While I may be boring on any given day, that doesn't mean I'm a boring person. I've done quite a few things, been quite a few places, explored quite a few thoughts. In so many other ways, I am confident. Why did I get bit with the social anxiety bug? I've improved over the years, so I guess I'll keep improving. Hey, maybe I'll be that 90 year old social butterfly. That could be interesting.
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