Diaries

I decided blogging is a fine line ...
between being therapeutic or wondering if people think you are a narcissist.
Do you think I am seeking attention or trying to help out a stranger or friend?
Too sad? Need more humor? Is the sarcasm coming through loud and clear?
Do I care enough or too much?

Strolling through memory lane I found my old journals.
I wished I kept my first one.
The one with a lock and a key that my Mom gave me around the age of 12.
I'm pretty sure it was filled with my crush on Shaun Cassidy and how I need more privacy in my life.

But I do have them since 1985.
(No keys)
They're filled with mostly talks about past boyfriends.
Crushes vs jerks.
College nights out and lonely nights in.
They stopped when I met DH.
I rekindled my love of writing when I started to go through infertility.
I started journals to both my boys and wished I had kept them up.

I haven't stopped journaling.
Blogging (typing) on a computer is way easier than writing with a pen in a lined book-
 but I'm wondering if "coming out" was the way to go.

There is something comforting about my sacred, private thoughts.
Have I exposed too much and will I regret my decision?
As I preach to my boys all of the time, once it's "out there"  there is no going back.

So I wonder, often, have I done the right thing?
Do I stop and go back to the lined book with the teddy bears on the front.
When no one else could read what my inside was desperately trying to say.

For now, I've come back down to reality after my scare and are contemplating why the Duggars are still in the news.

If only my life worries were still about when the next issue of Tiger Beat would come out.
Da do ron ron...