There are a few negative aspects of blogging. To me, blogging, is mostly about telling the stories. Being a storyteller is strangely enlightening. You tend to see the world in a different light. Reading some of my favorite authors' blogs can leave me feeling giddy and thankful. Both good things in this dreary world. Some of our stories are hard to tell. Sometimes they're painful to relive. Often the painful ones are more or less therapy for me, especially to reread at a later date and remember how strong I actually am. I survived that? I am awesome!
But sometimes those stories involve other people. Actually, most stories involve others to some extent. But sometimes their story overshadows your story. Sometimes telling their story would just belittle their experiences. Or insult their character in some fashion.
I don't wish to hurt anyone by telling my story. My story can include being angry at the action of others. Calling them out on it, doesn't necessarily correct the behavior. It only hurts feelings. Anonymity isn't an option on the internet. Especially, when half the people who read your blog are related to you.
My parents are now divorced.
This has been very painful to me. That story cannot be shared in the fullness because I love both my mother and my father very much. There are no sides. There was a marriage between two people. There is still a family. But the whole dynamic between these parties involved has changed... dramatically. Change is hard.
It came very suddenly, and played out quickly. Announced right before Thanksgiving in fact. Yay... holidays. *SARCASM* Then my grandfather passed away. My father, who was already grieving due to a different loss, now felt the emptiness of losing a parent. The next day, my little brother had to be admitted to the hospital, and was subsequently diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.
Sucks to be him.
No, really. That poor kid. The same one who joined the Marine Corps, got in a horrific, fiery motor vehicle accident, which led to multiple surgeries and years of recovery. Had twin baby girls last fall, at the same time returning to school to support his now family of four. Yeah, sucks. That boy has the worst luck in the universe. Luckily, he caught it quickly enough to cause no long term damage. But his medical costs just went through the roof. And now the Corp will probably discharge him, they don't like liabilities like diabetics. Ouch!
See, makes my life look not all that bad. But then there's the part where it seems like I am playing off his story, or demeaning it in some way. Do you see my point?
Some stories cannot ever be really shared to their full extent. Because some people in your life are too important to ever really be able to explain accurately to the interweb. One day I hope to look back on this winter and wonder how I survived. It was a winter of tragedy. Most of it was spent grieving in some sense or the other: grieving with my siblings about our broken family, grieving with my individual parents and helping them find happiness, grieving with my sister-in-law regarding her sick husband and now unknown future, grieving with my extended family over the loss of our patriarch, and grieving alone about the weight all these troubles carry. Well, that last one is a little unfair. I have a very strong companion in Avery. He is my shoulder to grieve on, and my pulley. When I need to stand back up again, he does all the heavy lifting.
I have a lot to be grateful for: my immediate family is sound. The three of us are quite happy together. Audrey is a beautiful, happy little girl. She brings us both so much joy. Avery is doing so well in school, and is on track to finish his Master's research by the spring. Which means so much for our future! All happy, joyful things! My work has been a blessing in disguise. Our friends have been incredibly understanding. Extended family all still love us and are trying their best to do the right thing.
Is it sad that sometimes the sad stories overshadow all the good?