Tuesday, July 19, 2005

What do you really know about me?

I realized while reading someone else's blog that I know about the worst thing that happened to her, but I don't really know much else about her. That, of course, spiraled into a thought about what you all know or don't know about us. Yes, I am THAT self-absorbed that I think about this stuff. :o)

In this blogosphere, I have created a world where I welcome that special mark/label on my forehead..."Mommy to a stillborn baby." But this is exactly the kind of thing I want to avoid in "real" life. Why the difference?

It seems as though there are people who know about all the little details and can't or won't share the big important ones. And then there are you guys/gals. You share that one horrible, awful, unthinkable experience with me, but know very few of the little details. There are only a handful of people who know both parts of me. And I'm apparently crafting my existence as though I accept that fact.

Perhaps it's ok to wear the label if you're surrounded by people who can identify...but it's not ok to wear the label around people who knew you "before?"

I've never been one to keep my mouth shut. If something is important to me, I generally talk incessantly about it. But with this ONE thing, I only talk in the quiet and safe place of this blog. I'm perplexed by this.

Today I admitted that I write not for an audience, but for my own therapeutic needs. I find it helps me to corral my crazy thoughts into something that makes sense, instead of buzzing around creating chaos in my brain. The fact that I have a small cheering section who understands what I've been through is just an added bonus. I mean, really...how many times are you going to find a therapist who REALLY understands what you're talking about?

This blog started out as a boring ramble about the tedious events in my life. Then it became something more important to me. I have no idea where it will lead, but it's already led me to some pretty amazing people who have endured some pretty horrible things. I look forward to getting to know the little details about each and every one of you. Or at least, the little details that you want me to know.

As for me, I think I may start blogging about what I ate for breakfast, so you can see how truly boring my life really is. My little Alex doesn't overshadow EVERY aspect of my life (just the majority)...and it's really unfair of me to lead you to believe that he does. It's not fair to his memory...and it's not fair to the rest of my life to pretend it doesn't exist.

3 comments:

grumpyABDadjunct said...

There's nothing wrong with writing for therapeutic needs, in fact I think it is one of the best things you can do. Not everyone can be as 'lucky' as I am and find a therapist with two dead children to help me through.

So, what do you eat for breakfast? I was stuck on peanut butter toast for awhile, but now it is too hot to eat anything warm so I'm on a granola/yoghurt/fruit kick.

Jillian said...

I have been thinking along the same lines. My way of expressing it is that we are writing PAST each other rather than connecting in a full front on collision.

Anyway, I noticed in the comments to your last post that you were called 'Kate' there. Is that who you are 'out there'?

Oh - I drink hot tea for breaky no matter what the weather!!

laura said...

lately i've been wanting hash browns for breakfast every day, but no one can keep that up for long without going the way of our dearly departed children.

sometimes i get these little whole wheat pitas from trader joe's, and i warm them up and smear a little goat cheese on them, and if i have something else good, like tomatoes or red onions, i put a sliver of that on. excellent breakfast. plus i've always got to have my juice and vitamin. i've been saving my soy milk for later in the day, since apparently taking my vitamin with citrus helps folic acid absorption and calcium inhibits it, or maybe it's iron. i can't remember. i just do what i'm told. sometimes. but i miss my morning milk.

so, catherine (or kate? or cate?), what should we know about you? what do you really want us to understand?

Mom

My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...