Friday, February 10, 2012

How this blog can to be ...

Bogging?   What, pray tell, is blogging?

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.


  1. Where did you take those photos? And why are they putting their bikes in the water? Also, pretty! :)

  2. I took the pictures at Perry Sound. The kids didn't actually put their bikes in the water. They rode them out onto a sandbar or whatever to the very end. It was a magical moment for us bears.