Thursday, September 26, 2013

Do It Again

     Jesus Christ, I've posted a whole 13 times this year? I don't know what's going on, except that maybe I'm just not as inclined to (over)share what's going on with my husband and I with regards to our life with Marfan's Syndrome. Actually, I don't think that's it at all. I know what's happening and I've been rolling it around in my head for the better part of too long and I still can't come to a conclusion.

     What it comes down to is this - I don't know anymore if I'm doing more harm than good. When I started this blog, my husband and I were both in a place so different from where we are now that I barely recognize it. I don't just mean because we lived in another state; our relationship was different, his health was in a different place, our heads were in a different place. Things have happened in the two years or so since I set this whole thing up that have irrevocably changed us and our course and it doesn't fit well. I keep telling myself that if I can help just one person by writing about what it's like living with something like Marfan's Syndrome in the house, then it's worth it. The thing is, though, is potentially helping some random person that I will likely never meet worth the discomfort and fractures that it causes among those familiar to me?

     As I so often feel the need to do, let me clarify - I don't mean that my blogging causes issues between my husband and I. He supports what I do, knows why I need to write and whenever there's something that I think I should probably run by him before I lay it all out there, I write the post, save it, and ask him to read it. As it turns out, I'm probably being overly sensitive about what might bug him, because he has yet to veto anything I've written or even ask me to speak about it in more vague terms. So. Apparently I'm the one overthinking this. Story of my life, right?

     I just...I don't know. I like to think that I belong to that exclusive club of people who truly don't give a fuck as they move through life, doing what they feel is right in the moment when it's happening. That's wishful thinking, though, as I don't believe too many of those people truly exist. I think they're more like an idea, a persona that most people wish they could fit into but know that they don't, never really will. It's just not practical to try and exist in the world if you are a world unto yourself and believe me, the effort of trying will wear you down fast. So as much as I'd like to say that I will keep doing this because I believe with everything I've got that helping one random person makes all the static worth it, I just don't know if I should.

      Every so often, a well-meaning comment hits me in such a way that it's like a sugar-edged razor in a cut. Not clean, just enough roughness to rip at the edges of the wound a little, but nothing that stings as sharply as salt, because the comment wasn't mean with that kind of vitriol. That makes it worse, always, when people say things to me with every good intention in the world. I mean, just spit it out, for fuck's sake. I can't overstate how much I appreciate when someone's got the sense enough to clearly state what their problem is, rather than trying to couch it in "concern". It may lead to a hellacious fight, but at least the air's clear afterwards and you know, if you're both still standing and not walking out the door, that you've got quality people around you. I've always thought of it that way, anyway.

      I realize now I should've added another disclaimer at the beginning so that you're not reading this thinking, "Who the hell said what to set her off?" Nobody, it's just a collection of comments and pieces of conversations that I've had with whoever since I started this blog and they finally made their way to the front of my brain. I needed to make it into a semi-cohesive thing before I could start writing with any sort of regularity again.

     It's still not cohesive or even close to ordered and actually, I just kind of annoyed the hell out of myself with this post, but I suppose that's going to be unavoidable once in awhile. It's fine, this will be the requisite whiny, woe-is-me post that every blogger has to have every, what, six months or so? Probably more frequently if you're not as cynical in nature as I am. So, really, when I look at it in that light, I'm actually doing pretty well with keeping the annoyingly introspective shit in my journal where it belongs.

     Next time I sit down to do this, I'll have my head on straighter, I promise.