raked over

I don’t want to be at the bottom of these emotions all the time. I want a break from the feeling that if I rake myself over the coals, kneading my raw meat emotions like rising dough, you’ll all feel less alone.

Workin.

Writing about yourself is probably a pretty selfish thing to do all the time, it’s not lost on me, but I don’t do it for me.

I mean – I do. Of course I do, I’m writing so I remember, so I learn, so I can some day show my daughter that the isolation she may be feeling? Is OK. That she’s OK.

I’ve had people compare my blog to something of an ego boost – and then they go on to tell me why they don’t blog, because they’re not insecure, don’t need the strokes to their instability; that what they’re doing is good, great, wonderful, wanted, needed … you name it.

Here’s the thing: I have a blog, I am not blogging. I’m writing. I’m storytelling my life and my mistakes and my triumphs in real time. Sometimes I go backwards, often I look ahead.

Lately I’m letting go.

BLAH BLAH BLAH. Explain, emote, feel, write. Rinse and Repeat.

I’m sick of myself.

So how are you?

7 thoughts on “raked over

  1. Just my opinion (which is a bit jaded since, you know, I think you’re awesome)but I don’t think someone who puts their innermost feelings out there for everyone to read and comment on is insecure. Just sayin’.

  2. Oh….I’m just hiding from those same emotions. Writing about things that have nothing to do with how I’m actually doing! šŸ™‚

    Funny what people say about bloggers. I wonder if they say the same about those that wrote about their lives 100 years ago…….

    Nope. They call that literature.

    So storytell all you want.

  3. I had a picnic today. This makes me happy. Other than that, it would take a million posts to explain the depth of emotions I have. I come here to see if ours compare or contrast and “people watch” so to speak.
    I feel sorry for people who don’t understand the art of writing in any capacity. Its a gift and it would be a damn shame if you wasted that gift.

  4. I love your gift, and I could never be ‘sick’ of you…writing is…sort of like a smile or a sigh on paper…and it is a key to who we are…

  5. I’m another one of those women that want to grow up to be like you, Jodi! (even though I think I am actually a little older…who cares!).
    I so admire your ability to just put your raw-ness and real-ness into words that are so beautiful and ring with truth!
    I love reading the posts that are You – I feel like I could really connect with you and sometimes wish that you were my next-door neighbor (but if that were the case, I would probably only engage in trivial chit-chat, and not let down my guard, because that’s the crazy little introvert that I am! – ugh!).
    You are a full-fledged Writer by the way! I think the stigmata of the typical “mommy-blogger” plagues some of the mommas out there with a true writer’s soul.
    Something I read a long time ago, but I always remember it because it keeps popping up…a true artist must always live outside of or on the outskirts of society/culture – so, when you feel like and outsider, just say “Fuck you all, I’m an artist!” šŸ˜‰

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