If you haven't read my blog before? Let me sum it up for you:
My kid is cute.
We don't sleep.
I have trouble making friends.
You? As a mom? Are doing fine.
There, now you don't need to read any more of my posts. You're welcome.
There has to be something else to say.
This is not me fishing for compliments. If my blog isn't boring to you, I'm so glad. Really. If it's done you any good at all, my heart is singing right now. And I want to keep doing that. I want to keep saying things that matter.
But it's boring for me.
I know I "should" write about my kid more. I mean I'm a mommy blogger, right? When was the last time I wrote about something cute my kid did?
And I somehow found my way into being a mental health blogger. Except the "real" mental health bloggers, the people who fight this every day and who try to beat off the demons with every stick available in their arsenal, they're the ones who should be talking about that. If I'm being honest, I still struggle, but I'm mostly passed that. My struggle with my brain isn't about surviving anymore, it's about growing. And thriving.
And everything I write (including this!!) sounds so self absorbed and trite. I ramble and I whine. I can't stand to read it let alone write it.
So I'm stuck. I don't know where to go next or what to do.
And I don't know. I don't know, maybe this is just me running and hiding in a corner when it starts to get hard. Maybe this is just me getting in my own way, stomping my feet, and throwing a tantrum.
But it sure feels real to me.