Well hi old friend.  It’s certainly been too long.  I’m sorry dear Kitty.  I’m finding it difficult to climb out of my current rut.  So much has been going on and one would think it would be restorative for me to write about it all.  However, I have a major personality flaw in that where others like to sing the blues, I prefer the clenched jaw stance.  I’ve never been keen on sharing my feelings, especially when they are hurt or sad.  I prefer the alternative, unhealthy tactic known as “keeping it all inside” and just hope that I won’t explode.  I’m really an expert at denial as well.  Dr. Phil would have a field day with me.

I have my ways of coping however (denial is my favorite, though blasting the stereo and dancing, walking on the beach or having a Corona all work for me as well).   I guess I just see this as my way of protecting others–those others who would have the misfortune to listen to my crap.   See?  Really I’m just being altruistic!  Seriously though,  on a rational level, I know it’s helpful to talk about things, get them out there, have someone listen, etc etc.  But I just can’t do it.  Yeah I’ll cry buckets and yell and scream on occasion–usually it’s my poor husband or children who benefit from this behavior.  But I never, ever just call someone or ask someone to sit down and listen to my problems.  (Save for my therapist–another something I had to sadly leave behind in NC.  But I paid her ass, so she doesn’t count.  Oh, and I pretty much had to have a nervous breakdown before I realized I needed to talk to someone.  And did I pick up the phone to call a friend?  No, I’m too considerate.  I had to pick up the yellow pages instead.)  I don’t know why I do this, but it’s basically a familial trait that I can’t shake.  Of course, said therapist might have been able to help me with this issue too, but again, I’m here, she’s there.  Along with most of my shit.

Which brings me to this blog.  You’d think I’d be able to write about my problems.  Writing is very therapeutic for sure.  But again, I’d appparently rather shut myself down in totality than confront my issues or feelings.  I’d just rather not deal.  So instead I ignore the issues, and almost every healthy outlet for dealing with them, including my poor, neglected blog.  I just felt I had nothing to write about, because my primary focus was on all the crummy things going on around me, and obviously I wasn’t going to talk (or write, as the case may be) about that stuff!

Today however, my need to do something positive and productive got the better of me.  I realized sitting around feeling sorry for myself wasn’t getting me anywhere but perhaps a shot at appearing on the aforementioned Dr. Phil.  (Is his show even still on?  I haven’t heard him pimp himself lately.  He must be on a different time slot than I’m used to.)  So to prepare myself for reaquaintence with my blog,  I took a mind-clearing walk up on the beach.  After 5 minutes and freezing my ass off, I came to my senses, and here I am.

I hereby officially welcome myself back.  Let the bitching begin.

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