This logo comes from the theme of my first book The Key to Her Heart. That theme came from my life. It is a motto that I decided on as an older teen so that I could live with the things that I hid away from everyone in my life as a child.Writing was the only way I had to express my hurts so that I could survive, and because I was afraid anyone would guess I was talking about myself I fictionalized everything I wrote.
Do not get me wrong. I love writing fiction. It gives me so much release from everyday life. I cannot even begin to put it into words! But I found something when I began blogging. Sometimes blogging was even more of a release. Except the guilt of actually expressing myself to people was crippling!
For the last year I have barely posted.This is mainly because of a set of posts that I published last spring, and the fall out from those. People definitely have their opinions! But you know what? This blog is an outlet for me and sometimes the only way I know how to talk out what is going on inside. I am not looking for drama. I am not even looking for an opinion most times. Talking to a counselor just doesn't do it, and an hour does not begin to cover the time needed to get it out. Besides, having to explain defeats the purpose. But knowing somebody is hearing me does help. So talking to my girls... That is emotionally expensive to them. Talking to my mom, well that sometimes brings her tears and she needs to chose when she wants to talk about it. I am all ears when she does. But knowing I have a place that ears do hear... It helps. I do not know why it does, but it does. Six times last year I really regretted posting because I caused a stir among people, and immediately I felt guilty. You see that is something I learned as a child.
I was told by my family... My mother's aunt and uncles... Do not cause commotion. Do not speak up because it is going to hurt somebody. Do not be dramatic. If you speak up for your needs, you just want attention. It is not okay to talk about it. Suck it up. Get over it. Whatever you do don't talk about it! Sweep it under the rug and pretend it is okay even if you are dying inside.
Well you know what? I am done! Three weeks ago I blew up at my son. Don't get me wrong, he deserved it, but it was not all his fault. The fault lye mostly with all the stuff I had learned to shove down and keep quiet about. So I am done.
I am done being quiet. I am done censoring myself, even and especially here. I am done apologizing for what happened to me as a child or an adult. I am done putting on a pretty little smile while I wilt inside. I am done not being good enough. I am done listening to the voices from the former generation going off in my head telling me once more how dramatic I am being. -Or the all time favorite! "Cathy, you always make such mountains out of mole hills!" I am done.
There is nothing wrong with the emotions I have and talking about what happened to put them there. Yes my experiences are different than most, but I did not chose that, and I am not afraid to live with it. No I don't need more attention. I just need a place to vent or rant or think or sometimes cry-- Especially when I think of my grandma... I need a place to make my own safety, and speak freely. I need a place to be me, worts and all. I don't need people "worrying about my sanity". News flash I am crazy-- Bat shit crazy. But you know what? Look around... The world is even crazier than I am. It is not anyone's job to worry about it. I can worry about myself, and I can figure out what to do for myself.
I will tell you one thing that helps me is writing on here, and I am done worrying about what anyone thinks. Yes this is a blog and anyone can see it. Who really cares? If someone doesn't like it they don't ever have to read it again. But you know what else? This blog does help me. It gives me a place that I do not know in the rest of my life and so here is my new resolution: I am going to post, probably quite often. But you might not like it. If you do not, leave it. It is okay. If you do, great. You are welcome to read my stuff... Sometimes it will be crap, and other times it might just turn a light bulb on. I promise only one thing... It will be me, just me. -Not what ever anyone expects. Just what is going on in inside, or a book review from a book I enjoyed, or a clip from my latest manuscript, or an idea I am toying with, or a memory I deal with. I might be calm or I might be angry or depressed or confused. But you will read me. From now on. That is all I can promise, but in this world of making 'good' impressions it is a start. I am not trying to get people to feel comfortable or trying to impress anyone. I am just trying to survive, and sometimes by being me give some one a smile or a nod. I am a mess. I am the first to admit that, but that is okay. It's taken me 47 years to figure that out, but at least that is one lesson I have learned.
Just Cat sharing my thoughts with whoever wants to hear. Hope you understand, but even if you don't I refuse to be quiet anymore. Thanks for listening. You are welcome to comment if you would like, but don't need people telling me what to do. Done that too much to myself.
