Have you ever been able to write a post without feeling like you're in your skivvies teetering on a rock ledge, rope in hand, about to fling yourself out over the water and let go?
Halloween almost escaped me this year. How did it go at your house? A 20% off coupon texted to my cellphone that day got me moving. In five hours I cleaned the gutters, cleared the leaves off the driveway, and decked out the entryway with spiders, skeletons, spider webs, torches, and glowing orb. Door bell rang maybe a dozen times, with groups of two to six. Only once did I scream. Trump does that to me.
I've linked this blog to my real name, finally, in one tiny Facebook 'closed' group. Now that I know I am not the curse I thought I was, I hope someone may relate to my story of extreme childhood emotional neglect, and believe they're not cursed by it forever, either.
Speaking of getting real, I actually confided in someone I know this week that I'm in counselling, recovering from developmental PTSD. I stop at the Diner on my way and she owns the place.
"Terrific! My God!" she said. "Do you know how many of us have trauma in our lives? I'm writing a book, so people can see behind the person they think they know when they see me."
Not an easy life she's had, immigrating from Kosovo nearly thirty years ago.
We agreed, our public persona and private self can be a real disconnect.
I don't want that disconnect any more. I am what I am.
The other big news is that yesterday my big sister defied every piece of advice our dead momma uttered. She chalked her sentiments on a brick wall outside Wrigley Field. Posted her graffitti on Facebook, too. I am so proud of that woman. For eight years now, she's worked that hallowed ground as a Cubs usher. Every year - love with heartbreak. Wow. They really did the city of Chicago proud this year. Congratulations!
If you have come to my blog for the first time, feel free to nose around. Rest assured, I publish each post with a prayer...."Please God, let there be comments!"
Your Halloween decor looks great. I can't believe you had so few trick-or-treaters. I had 89 and ran out of candy 15 minutes early. (Our city sets the time from 6 to 8.) I had one Donald Trump, too, and I had trouble giving him candy. LOL
ReplyDeleteI have linked my blog to Facebook and even put a link in my Christmas letter 4-5 years ago. Don't be surprised if very few of your friends don't follow you to the blog community. I only know of three people out of roughly 100 in my offline life who ever checked out my blog and only one keeps coming back. Another said it was "too personal to read." Bloggers and blog readers are cut from a different cloth than our ordinary friends. But you might have a different experience since you said it was a closed FB group where you posted the link. Let's hope some of the do get hooked on blog reading!
That last sentence should read, "Let's hope some of
DeleteTHEM do get hooked on blog reading."
How interesting...that's my experience, too, with the people I know. They either get the goods offline already, or prefer a little less intimacy, thank you! In any case, there's a self-filtering phenomena that leaves this blogging sphere such a safe place.
DeleteMe, I've gotten hooked on the personal 'against the odds, living a splendiferous life' blogs. This is the life I need to believe exists. Do you mind if I put you in this category?
Personally? I don't want many of my FB friends to find my blog. LOL A lot of my kids friends are on my Friends list--Lordy, Lordy. They always thought "Momma Miller" was a "cool, nice woman"--I so hate to disappoint!!! I have one old Dear from Kindergarten Friend who reads it every day and comments through e-mail.
ReplyDeleteYou ARE a cool, nice woman. As a bonus, we get to read how you REALLY feel. Anyone who really knows you wouldn't mind, you'd think. To think, you have one friend who's known you since kindergarten. Kids and their broods - a different story.
DeleteIn my regular social circles, I wouldn't want someone to feel closer to me than I feel to them. I guess blogs are a bit of voyeurism, aren't they? I guess I'm realizing my public persona doesn't hold much charm for me; I really don't care to maintain it. And don't have to, because I've retired from just about every group I don't feel at home in. With the closed groups within Facebook, people drop the act, and it's cool who we get to know.
I want to add, I wouldn't dream of betraying someone's confidences or privacy. When I've shared conversations here, they were in public, like the Diner one above. I ask permission to share something like the letter I shared from my friend recently or what goes on in my counselling sessions.
DeleteFlo, no, I don't mind you putting me in that category.
ReplyDeleteLike Judy, I have one old friend who reads all my blogs but comments through email. She's known me all our lives so I wish she'd learn how to use the comments because she'd add a different dimension to things, but she never will.
Have you considered asking her permission to share something she's written on your blog? Would she be comfortable with that?
DeleteHadn't thought of asking that.
DeleteI love your image of "teetering in your skivvies." You are so full of joy -- a marvel after a life with developmental PTSD. Keep going, Flo. I'm glad you are putting yourself out there. You will be a hand to others.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Martha. Your current post about wabi sabi and kintsugi touched me deeply. What a different philosophy from my own, old one. Still sinking in...finding beauty in imperfection and scars we all have.
ReplyDeleteI learn a lot from reading your blog. Mainly that I am thankful to have had a "normal" childhood. I don't know that I have what it takes to dig down that far yet what other option is there?
ReplyDeleteGlad you are posting a bit more ... now for me to remember to stop on by!!! I had over 400 trick or treaters! My 1,000 pieces of candy were gone in 45 minutes ...
400 trick or treaters! :-O
ReplyDeleteYeah, I think my childhood was a little extreme. lol. I was 30 years old when I felt my first ever consoling hug - that was from my future hubby. I knew a good deal when I felt it!