No More Excuses
I’ve had quite a few people email me and urge me to continue my posts about my childhood. The last post that I did was It Was Her and that was back in the first week of November. This last post was number eleven in my journey. I decided to wait to continue my story for a few reasons. My childhood was not pleasant by any means and is extremely difficult for me to write about. The holidays were approaching and I thought that continuing to write through that time would make it difficult for me to keep up my holiday spirit.
The holidays are now over and I guess the time has come where I can no longer make excuses. I have debated on whether or not to continue my story and every time I conclude that I am just going to let it go, I get another email or comment from one of my blogging friends encouraging me to keep going and inquiring when the next post will be. So I just wanted to say thank you, you know who you are, for helping me to keep a promise to myself. You see, I promised myself when I started this that I would finish the story. These are the skeletons of my family that they all refuse to acknowledge. These are the traumatic events that have shaped who I am. These things have made me the parent that I am today. These stories have never been told from my point of view, until now, and some people have been afraid for years that I would start talking. I have never truly “dealt” with any of these things and in just eleven short posts have learned a little something about myself. I’ve realized that I can’t stop now.
Since my last post on my childhood, I have acquired some new blogging friends and followers. These friends probably have no clue what I’m talking about. If you are one of those new blogging friends who are a bit confused, I started blogging about my childhood when I first started my blog. I plan on picking up where I left off last November. I have a page that is titled “My Journey Here” where these posts are listed in order if you are interested in catching up on my story. Otherwise, these new posts probably won’t make much sense. I know that most of my posts have some sort of sarcasm or humor to them because that’s how I’ve chosen to cope with life. That is why a lot of people read my blog. I make people laugh (at least that’s what they tell me). These posts have a different tone to them because they are the true stories of my childhood. No sarcasm or exaggeration. Some of these posts may be really difficult to read. I have made a few people cry and I know that I have cried myself when trying to get them out. If you choose to skip over this part of my blog, I don’t blame you. I am typing my way through the mess as a form of therapy for myself and for anyone who happens to be interested, I welcome the company. These posts will have a number after the title, such as “It Was Her (11)” so you can recognize that it’s not my average post.
Why is it that I am able to remember the horrors of such a young age so vividly while most people have the gift to block it out? I’ll never know. Thanks again to everyone who has encouraged me to keep going. I am almost finished with my next post and should have it posted tomorrow.