It is hard to put into words that don’t sound pathetic how difficult this is for me. I can’t stand reading all the whining that goes into so many blog posts about people’s ‘disorders’ and ‘syndromes.’ Eh, get over it. But here I am, wanting to tell you how this painting represents a seriously brave moment for me. How going out my front door, walking to the park, sitting on a bench, pulling out the sketchbook and painting WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE ME is basically just a little slice of hell. If I believed in hell that is. Oh and that phrase, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?’ Bullshit. Walking out that door never gets any easier.
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Today is my little sister’s birthday. She may be closer to forty than to thirty now, but she will always be the youngest among us, and that has got to be difficult. I would hate it if I always had four other people around thinking I was less experienced or knowledgeable just because I was born a few years later. Actually, I have experienced it, and it did suck. I’ll try to keep that feeling in mind next time I talk to her.
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A friend has returned to the blogosphere, and it has proved true something I vaguely suspected. There are a few (and I mean only two or three) people whose opinion on my blog posts I actually care about. She is the only one I don’t see in real life. Now that I know she is reading again, I feel the urge to start blogging again.
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Mind of a Mouse 