I have a confession to make; I’m not really sure what I’m doing on this blog these days. I feel kind of lost here. I keep writing, because I always have written and–I’ll be honest–because I’m afraid that if I stop writing I’ll be utterly lost and forgotten. This community has always meant so much to me. It has been a life line in a lot of ways and I’m terrified of losing what I have here. And yet I see it changing, morphing into something different (as it has always transformed before) and I wonder (and worry) about where we will all end up. What if some day I don’t have this community anymore? Of, even more tragically, what if some day I don’t want to be a part of what my place in this community has become? Where will I be? What will my life be like? I literally can’t fathom. The possibility of it terrifies me.
So I keep writing, in some kind of desperate attempt to stay present, to stay relevant. I try hard to participate and comment, but it’s challenging when I’m mostly on my phone and so many blogs use Captcha these days (I find Captcha to be almost impossible to decipher and successfully enter on my phone). I know I’m not giving back enough to harbor any expectations of what I should be receiving. (And I truly don’t expect anything from anyone anymore, that stopped long, long ago.) It’s not that I’m disappointed in anyone or anything, I just feel that inevitable ebb taking place, as it has time and again since the beginning of blogging memorial. The tide pulls back. Blogs get quiet. Some people shut down their sites and I start to wonder what it will all look like when it’s over. Luckily I’ve been around the blog (Haha! What a perfect pun of a typo!) enough to know that this is normal. It has happened before and it will happen again and in the end I will always find a place here if I WANT to find one.
Of course, some minor (okay, huge) details make it complicated. The fact that I’m pregnant after a relatively short and painless stint of trying a second time complicates things, especially when I aim to participate in a community where people struggle long and hard to achieve what I have achieved. The fact that my daughter is turning three years old in three short weeks and is no longer just an extension of myself to discuss as I see fit, but her own person who deserves recognition, consideration and privacy, also complicates thing. Of course I am more than my daughter or my (hopefully) soon to be second child. I am so much more. And yet most of the time I’m not sure how to express all that remains. I’m not sure if I really want to.
It’s hard when you’re a mother to separate yourself out from your children. You are who you were before, but you have been irrevocably changed. You have interests and talents but you must mold them to fit into the small spaces your young children leave behind (or that you fight for, tooth and nail). I think, when your children are younger, it’s hard to delineate where they end and you begin. I know I struggle with it, especially here. This place was born of my desire to have children. It is only natural that it clings to them with an invisible ferocity.
And so I’m left feeling unsure, uncertain. I have felt this way before. Sometimes I’ve taken breaks, other times I’ve forged ahead blindly, writing just to avoid the silence of walking away. The truth is, things in my life are relatively wonderful. My relationship is stronger than it’s been in a long time. I just cut my therapy appointments down to once a month because I don’t feel much need to go more frequently. This most stressful of school years is almost over. The baby inside of my continues to thrive, at least as far as I can tell. I have my daughter and my hopefully soon to be second child. I have my house and the support from of my family. Come October, if all goes according to plan, I will have formally arrived at my life, in all its glory. I will be where I always HOPED I would be. What does one write about then?
Perhaps all of this internal distress about the state of the blogosphere–or better said MY blogosphere–is just me looking down the road and realizing I’m not sure where I’ll be when everything is what I had always wanted. Maybe I’m projecting my fear of my obvious irrelevance then onto who I am now. I honestly don’t know. I am in transition. The blogosphere seems to be in transition, and I suppose I’m just grasping desperately for some firmer footing, for some inkling of recognition about where I belong and who I am becoming.
In the meantime, I suppose, I will just keep writing, because that is the one thing that I know how to do.