Anyone who has a blog that is open to the world (meaning, one that isn’t password protected), has to make decisions every day about what to share and what to keep offline. A lot of things aren’t shared simply because they’re dull. No one really wants to read about how many bowls of cereal were consumed in my house today (five). So that little factoid doesn’t get shared, but it’s funny – no one leaves comments insisting that we eat.
Then there are the things I don’t write about because I (we) am not ready to share them. I don’t talk about the three doctors whose care I am under, two of whom I see weekly. One of my doctors reads my blog every day. One of the doctor’s assistants calls once a week to check in. ALL my doctors know exactly how I am feeling, because they ask and I tell them. I trust them. They are medical professionals who know my entire history. Who actually DO know how many bowls of cereal were consumed in my house today, because it’s important that they know EVERYTHING.
Besides my doctors and my husband, there isn’t anyone else that needs to know everything.
I write about my feelings on my blog because it is my outlet. I keep my blog public because I think it’s important for people to see that grief is messy. It doesn’t fit in a little box. It doesn’t follow rules or steps. I know grief is hard to read about, but I’m not required reading. I KNOW that writing about what I’m feeling and going through helps people, because they tell me it does. And I know it helps me.
There may be a small few who think they have a complete insight into my life because I post 350 words five days a week. They are welcome to make assumptions, but so far they’ve all been wrong. Then there is the large majority who read my posts, have concerns, and instead of drawing conclusions, they reach out. They ask questions, voice their thoughts, and they do it with love and friendship. Those are the people that I hope always read my blog. They not only help me, but they help the hundreds of other grieving parents that gather here. So to them, I say, “thank you.”
To the others? You’re not worth my time.