That was my thought when I first heard the term: blog. It was in reference to a blog a Japenese man had written about an incident in the subway. The outrage over the incident reported. The amount of publicity the blog engendered. The power it generated.
I was amazed.
Originally created in 1949, I enquired of several experts, the cubs in my den, for enlightenment as to what a blog was.
For years, writing has been a passion of mine. I even got published in several Sunday School papers back in the early '90's. But then life intervened. I had a breakdown. Depression became my everyday companion. Suicidal ideation ditto. I stopped writing. I was too busy trying to stay alive to write.
In the intervening years, I've journaled; written poems; clarified thoughts in writing; even used writing as a tool to figure out who I was during an extremely trying time in my life.
I entertained thoughts of writing a book. I do believe there are several books hidden inside me regarding different phases and aspects of my journey through trauma and PTSD, secondary wounding, recovery, etc.
Yet, although I made a few paltry attempts to put thoughts down in words, I never kept up with it. That "round tuit" was missing. That accountability.
Now, realize this, I, Mama Bear, can procrastinate with the best of them. I seem to get started and then decide I need a rest and will resume "tomorrow". As we all know: tomorrow never comes.
The time to do things is today.
And then 2011 happened.
2011 has been a pivotal year for me. It has changed the course of my life plummeting me into the depths of depression once again. Despair. I was stumbling at the beginning of the 2011, but still had my health. I was gainfully employed at a job I loved and was good at. By the end of the year, I was unemployed and struggling with health issues caused by severe stress.
No longer could I enjoy life as I had in years past. There were days I couldn't even sit up, but had to lie in bed unable to do anything: sleep, read, etc. All I could do was lie there.
I hated how constrictive my life had become. I longed to be normal once again.
However, every time I took one (or even two) steps forward; extreme fatigue, weakness, even balance issues, and, of course, the ever present depression took over and overwhelmed me.
And then I did some networking. I learned of a woman who worked from home. Writing. I contacted her. We talked. She was willing to set me up as a blogger. I would get paid for it.
Ideas started percolating in my mind. In waves. Stories I could tell. What topics I would pick: travel, crafts, history. Suddenly, my world was opening up in front of me. I was getting excited.
Best of all, I could do this from home - and be paid for it! Yahoo!
And then I faced reality. Starting was a challenge. I'm from the first wave of baby boomers. Computers, blogs, cell phones, etc. were unheard of in the 50's. I've become contemporary in many ways. I have a computer. I know what a URL is. I know how to look things up on the web. Yet still I was challenged beyond belief. Doubts assailed me. Insecurity took over. Yet, I kept persevering.
And then, this woman's employer issued a mandate not to accept any new social bloggers. My career was a social blogger was ended before it even began.
But I was still enthralled by the idea of blogging. Of putting words to paper - or rather screen. Of getting examples of how I could write for potential employers. Of expressing myself. I decided to keep on. Bull through. Make it happen this time around. Actually set up a profile. Actually force myself to put words to blank screen. Actually talk the first steps towards moving forward: out of the past into the future.
And so I did.
The result is this blog.
Any feedback is appreciated.