Fear of Blogging

Gosh, it’s been a while since I posted. I mean, I’ve been wanting to start a blog for a long time about my life, but then I do and suddenly I become paralysed with fear: what if someone somehow manages to find out who I am? What if it doesn’t make me feel better at all - you know, writing about it?

The thing is, I can’t really talk to my friends about what’s really going on. I’m a kind of pillar of strength; one of those women who appears to have it all. Reasonable looks, nice husband, exciting job, sense of humour. I know how to say the right thing at the right time, give helpful advice to bawling mates who are going through a crisis and put my arm round them or take them partying accordingly. I am the ‘holder-upper’. I don’t break down! I don’t cry! I hold everything together!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to paint a perfect picture because seriously, it’s really not that perfect even from the outside. But you know, life . is . not . really . that . bad. And when I consider that all over the world people have to deal with death and life-changing illnesses, I feel somewhat of a fraud. But hell, see! This is precisely why I started this place. FOR ME. So that I can moan without feeling guilty and spill my guts without friends looking bewildered, not knowing whether to put the kettle on or pour a whiskey. I wanted this space to just be mine.

But why I ask myself and no doubt you ask too - the dark vast cyberspace that might be looking back at me as I upload these words – why not write them in a diary? Why not scribble notes? Why not write them in a word document on my computer? Well, for some reason it feels too permanent. Ink, paper – it’s too real. This, this is out there in the ether. Nobody knows who I am, nobody can log in to my blogger account. This is my place to feel free and of course, if anyone ever stops by then well, they might be able to give me advice that isn’t clouded by knowing me. By knowing my life. By knowing him.

So, I’m hoping to make blogging a little more permanent despite the rollercoaster of fear about doing it. But don’t hold me to it. I’m off to Canada in two days… that’s the nice part of my life.