I'm not entirely sure how I have ended up here. By 'here' I mean in the position that I am writing a blog. I wrote a diary as a child and found it particularly cathartic - until my Mother read it. Something she swore she hadn't done, but then preceded to reference it in small ways over the next few years of my young life. The shame, the violation I felt was unimaginable! All my teenage hopes, fears, fantasies and shameful thoughts - laid out in lurid detail; written in private and stashed away from prying eyes.
Discovered.
Why do we write things down, when by the very act of recording thoughts we risk discovery? I'm not a psychiatrist but my best guess would be that by writing them down we acknowledge them and in turn this helps us to deal with whatever the thoughts or feelings are. As a child it tormented me that my diary had been read, probably because I didn't have the mental capabilities to deal with the reality of my innermost self - as an adult I think I find the thought of sharing, comparing and working through my daily cerebrations, quite liberating!
I'm not going to promise intellectual discussions, fancy prose or even excitement. That's not what this is about for me. It will be what it wants to be, I will let it meander where it will - a mirror to my thoughts.
Until next time!
Shelley X
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