I write many posts that are never published. These posts are rants, exposes on people that have done me wrong, confessions. The problem is that there is just too much truth and reality contained within their harsh words.
I am a late bloomer, I believe. I am maturing slowly in many areas of my emotional self. What I am discovering is that it is okay to be honest, to record my true feelings, my harsh reactions. But I don't need to share them with the world.
I know. You are saying: "Yeah, we all know this. It is cathartic to write a letter to someone and then just don't mail it." Everyone knows that it is healthy to keep a journal.
But how many of us really take the time to do this? I think a lot of stuff. I think way too much. I sometimes wish I could just stop thinking and make it through a day a mindless blob. It would be so much easier. Lemmings are very happy creatures. No worries. Hakuna matata! Right?
Do you know how many journals I have destroyed? I honestly didn't want anyone reading the stuff in my journals, ever. I have this need to hide part of myself from others. It isn't because there is evil or ugly stuff there, though there is some of that. I believe it is a control issue. I am sure Freud would have a lot to say about that. I have allowed others to have parts of myself that I wish I could take back. And some of that came in the form of words, letters, honesty, even surrender.
You can't take back words. Once they are out there they are OUT THERE!
So this is my non-post about all of those harsh, truthful, not-so-nice, sometimes ugly posts that I will never publish.