Writing About It Helps

Hello and welcome.

This is the third or fourth blog I’ve started in the eight or so years I’ve been blogging. For some reason, every time I try to remain anonymous, it never works out well for me. It seems that the people I write about in my life find my blogs and of course, they do not like what I have written about them.

Fights ensue. Heartache. War is declared.

So I take down the old blog and create a new one.

I’m sorry you don’t like what I write about you in my blog posts. I really am. But frankly my dear,  I don’t give a damn.

It’s not about you. It’s about me.

It’s about why I am unhappy in my life. And writing about it, helps.

It does. It’s free – way cheaper than therapy – and it helps me get my scattered thoughts into one location where I can focus on what the problem is, and, I hope – how to fix it.

I don’t lie in these posts. Why would I? What’s the point?

So if I recount a meeting, a text, an email, and you don’t like it?

Too bad. Don’t say or write those things. Then you have nothing to worry about.

I am not a therapist. But for me, writing about my life is a form of therapy. I don’t do it for fame, or for money.

But for me.

So if you know who I am and you don’t like what I have to say, I’m sorry. Don’t read it. Walk away. Turn of the computer.

Because it’s not about you.

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