To blog or not to blog?

I started this blog several years ago.  It was about my family. I liked that there was a way to keep other family members updated on what our family was doing.  I never wrote about anything too earth shattering....just day to day life and fun moments with our kids.  It sort of died off.  Partly due to the fact that I was lazy and partly due to the fact that I wasn't writing anything I thought would matter to anyone.

In July,  I thought it would be good to dust off the blog and use it as a way to keep people informed about what was going on with my pregnancy.  I didn't want to call everyone every time I had a doctors appointment or ultrasound.  It was a good way to get in info our to the family and a few friends.  Then we started our "baby bucket list" and many people loved this idea.  They loved that we were trying to make the most out of our time with Eli.  I decided to share that.  Then I started writing more.  My thoughts, feelings.... the journey.  It became something I hadn't originally set out to do.
I have written a lot.  It has been very helpful, particularly after Eli died because I felt an inability to talk directly to many people, but I felt an ability to write.  I would find out things that I was feeling as I wrote....the writing seemed to draw it out of me and that was cathartic.  Some things seemed to make more sense TO ME after writing.

I thought that the idea of being honest about the journey was refreshing and welcome.  I, personally, like to know what's really happening to others (and myself) minus the fluff and facades.  But, not everyone wants to know the truth (in whatever context we are talking about).  Some people love truth.  Some people only love truth if it is convenient or soothing, and there are times when truth is neither soothing nor convenient.

I have become a little disheartened about the blog.  I have lost a little steam.  After Eli died I think I was the most surprised about some of the things I felt.  I had anticipated his death.  I thought I was naive when it came to death, but I have had some life experience and I didn't realize how ignorant I was until things started playing out.  I was surprised and thought,   "Wait...what?  What's going on?  I read about 'this;' and 'this' isn't going according to what I saw on paper.  'This' is different....a lot different."   I think I felt the need to say things because I was so surprised.  I thought, "No one knows about this!"  I certainly didn't and I thought I was smart. Ha!  I overestimated my ability and underestimated the power of the pain that comes from the loss of a child.

What was the purpose of the blog in the first place?  (This is how I have to decipher through things).  I have no idea.  The purpose was to inform, but then it morphed into something entirely different, and didn't have one specific purpose.

It was a place to get some feelings out: check.

It was a place to possibly help someone going through something similar: ?

It was a place to "educate" or help people to understand grief (I knew so little before this and I assume that many people know very little about the inner workings of it unless they have experienced it): I thought it was a check, but I'm not so sure anymore.

I finally came to the point where I just said, I feel like it is helping me and it isn't hurting anyone, so I'll just keep at it.

But, then, being the thinker that I am, I realized it was hurting someone.  It was hurting me. I was putting my feelings, so tender and raw, on a big platter and telling people to go ahead and have a look. And occasionally I would have an observer say something about how they didn't like my feelings or how they weren't sure that's what I really meant. Oh, honey.... that's what I REALLY meant.  

I have become very vulnerable through my writing.  I feel like I am in fish bowl where everyone can see but no one can come. It is a naked feeling.  I feel exposed.  It is isolating and a dark cave would be preferable in some ways. I am more fragile than anyone is used to (especially me) and I don't like being on display.

I have written so much and it is hard to put so much out there and not feel understood sometimes.
I have realized that my grief is unique. It is personal. I have learned this more and more as time has gone on. I have read books and talked with people who have experienced very similar situations. I find myself surprised how many things have been different for me despite our very similar situations.

So, it's not like me telling people about MY grief is really going to help them with their grief.  It's not like telling them about My grief is going to help them with anyone else's grief....So what's the point?

So, I moved on and thought if I talked about MY grief....my feelings,...even if it wasn't the same as everyone else's, at least people would understand me, right?  Well, that isn't true either because everyone is looking through their own lens, which distorts and skews things.  And if our personal lenses aren't enough of a problem, we have the obvious language barrier issues.  Words are inadequate to convey the innermost feelings of my heart, so even if we all had the same lens, I wouldn't be able to paint an accurate picture with my words.

And on the next idea: Even if someone does understand, they can't really HELP.  I guess they could listen, but that became demoralizing as I realized that they didn't even know what I was talking about.  I could just as well go to Algeria and talk to someone in English when they only speak Arabic.  They can nod and smile; maybe even cry, but if they don't know what you are saying, it becomes a chore to talk rather than a relief.

And here comes the second half of this weird post.  You would think I would want people to tell me that I am amazing, etc, but that isn't that helpful either.  I should enjoy a compliment every now and again, but I usually don't.  I have had people say, "You are amazing." If they REALLY know me, inside and out, up and down, and they think that, I could deal with that.  But most people don't, so when they give me a compliment like that, I almost completely disregard it because they don't have the information to pass that sort of judgement....even though it is in my favor.  I'm not saying they are wrong (or right), but they simply can't see me clearly enough to know if  I am or not.  I can't see it.  Only God can see me clearly and so His is the only opinion that should drive me.  It is the only one worth caring about.  I can trust what He says.  Am I going to be offended if someone gives me that sort of compliment? No, because disregarding something is not the same as being offended by it.   I simply feel like they don't have the information or insight to make that kind of judgement call....anyways....maybe I should just take a compliment, right?  I'm not sure if compliment is the right word?  Maybe statement? I feel like someone who has never tried tiramisu is telling me it is the most delicious thing they have ever eaten;  Or someone who is blind telling me they like the color of my eyes.  How would they know?  Wow...if I could think in a less convoluted way, I might do it, but I can't and I won't and it is exhausting for everyone around me.  Sorry.  So.....I don't believe a lot of what people say unless it is God.  However, all truth comes from God and if someone tells you something, and the spirit testifies of its truthfulness, He is giving you a witness of the validity of that statement.  So, you can actually believe what other people say....sometimes.... sigh.....big sigh.....

I thought that maybe I would just say all the good stuff....you know the stuff that people like to hear....the stuff that is pleasant and doesn't make us examine our true motives and weakness....   sunshine, rainbows, unicorns....I could just leave out the rest and use it as a place for bearing out in pure testimony.  Only, I knew it wouldn't really work (after reading a talk by Joseph B Wirthlin which probably has nothing to do with this, but was helpful at the time: Without Guile ).  It wouldn't work for me because it would only be partially true. There would be nothing pure about it because it would be half of the story. There is no true testimony with the "test" part and the testimony isn't worth that much unless it has been tried and solidified.  I guess this is showing the solidification process as it happens...

I started thinking that when someone sits down to write a book, they write the resolution because there is some resolution by the time they sit down to write.  When you write in real time it is like a public journal.  Isn't there a reason that little girls have locks on their diaries?  I'm not sure how I feel about real time.  I actually hate reality shows.  Mostly because people are stupid and it's hard to be entertained by stupidity.  But, they are interesting in the sense that nice looking people show their true colors and that can look ugly.  That "nice" looking person, doesn't look so nice anymore. So how did I get wrapped up in my own reality show when I hate them so much?  I ask myself that all the time.

But here's my problem.  I feel the same way as Jeremiah at times when he said:

Jeremiah 20:9: Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name. But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay.

He wanted to keep his mouth shut but he just couldn't do it.  I can't shut my mouth for very long. 

It's a real problem.