Lately I have been feeling a need to write so I decided to check back in on my old, neglected blog.
While I love having conversations with people, I feel that the written word is the best way for me to get my thoughts and feelings out.
I started this blog 5 months into my grief journey. (Serious question…why do we refer to it as a journey? A journey should be a venture to a place that is enjoyable and grief is not enjoyable. Far from it. It’s miserable…like, zero stars, would not recommend miserable.)
I started writing for many reasons but there were two major reasons. The first was that I needed to get the feelings out. I am Boston Irish and we are not known for expressing emotions. (Please don’t take that as shame of my heritage. I am fiercely proud of being Irish, which, according to Ancestry.com fluctuates between 73% and 77%.) If you were to scroll back through my earlier posts, I was writing 1200-1500 words per post and writing 5 posts a week.
That’s a lot of words.
What can I say? I had a lot of feelings. *insert shrug emoji*
I made changes to my life. The biggest change being a move back home to Maine. It was a very positive change and I have zero regrets about moving home. I am very happy to be here. It’s a magical place and my daughter gets to spend her childhood here.
It was around this time (early 2019) that I stopped writing. While it was good to get my feelings out, it put them out there for people to have opinions and for people to judge my situation. Getting my feelings out was a good idea but I should have had boundaries, even if they were just emotional and spiritual boundaries. Sure, people can judge me, but just because I put my feelings out does not mean that I have to internalize other’s reactions to my feelings.