It’s not exactly that there’s no news, just… no good news.
I used to keep paper journals. I think I started when I was 18. And I wrote quite a lot, through maybe four of my six attempts at college, all of my romantic relationships, the death of my dad, and many, many travels. Over time, I found that my journal was not really an accurate reflection of my life, in that when I was busy and happy, I didn’t have much time to write, and when I was feeling wretched, writing really helped me dwell on every tiny detail of my misery, so the bad is heavily overrepresented. And tedious.
Then I had a kind of epiphany, oh, around late 2001, I think. In an email to Kelly I mentioned that my husband had been getting on my last nerve lately, but didn’t give details. And you know, email replies contain the original message, so when she wrote back a few days later I saw that bit again, and I could not remember a single detail about what he had done to annoy me. Nothing. It occurred to me then that all of that obsessive writing on the bad bits of my life may have given them more significance than they really deserved, and that sometimes, problems really do go away if you ignore them. This has turned out to be true.
This is not to say that people shouldn’t ever write about the bad things in their lives – communicating about tragedy is one of the ways we process it so we can move on, and that’s really important. But I think I gave some of mine too much attention, and thus too much power over me.
So I really try not to do that on this blog. I don’t want to bum y’all out, and I don’t really want to give my problems more of a life than they already have. At the same time, though, I might need to process this latest setback. I don’t know.
I had a run-in with Ignatz’s therapist a couple weeks ago, and it’s really shaken me. I don’t want to give it too much power, so I’ve been waiting for it to blow over, but it doesn’t seem to be going away. So I’ve been anxious and frustrated and depressed since then, and I’ve tried to talk it through with a couple people and I just can’t seem to get my point across, which is leading me to suspect that I must be wrong.
Strangely, that does not comfort me, not even a little.
Song du jour of the day: Fragile, by Sting