For my Secret Mommyhood Confession Saturday post I bring you this, my confession: I’m starting to lose sight of what my story is.
When I started this blog about six weeks ago, I had no preconceived ideas about what it would become. I had no real goals for it. I just wanted to get it out there. Tell the truth about my experience and hope that somewhere, some time, it would help someone.
Well, it helped me. I truly feel like a totally different person than I did six weeks ago. Oh, I know I’m not “better” – whatever that may mean now – but I’m better than I was and that’s partly due to writing about it.
I’ve also discovered that I like this – this telling of the story, this ability to frame my life in a certain way, this opportunity to be part of a different community. I really like it.
I’m still thinking through some stuff, but what happens if I don’t have this PPD story to tell anymore? What if it’s not so central to my daily life? I can’t just go back over the last two years and tell all the little, seemingly insignificant stories – the day I yelled, the day all I did was cry, the day I called my parents and told them to come and pick him up RIGHT NOW. Can I? Who wants to read that? Do I want to write that? Do I need to?
I don’t know.
But I don’t know what this blog is about without it. I don’t want to be just another mommy blogger. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) I want to have a purpose for all these dots and dashes I’m contributing to the wilds of cyberspace. And I want it to be more than self-indulgent self reflection.
I guess for now my story is still defining itself. And I guess for now I’m all right with that.
