Putting It All Out There

Some people are good at processing their feelings on their own. They don’t feel compelled to share (or to overshare), and they can effectively compartmentalize, keeping what’s happening in one area of their life from oozing into everything else.

I admire these people, and their restraint. I’m glad (and lucky) that my husband is one of them.

I need the counterbalance. As many of you know (and have experienced first-hand), I’m not a compartmentalizer. I talk, and then I talk some more. There aren’t many pages of my open-book life that I haven’t made public, and you know how I approach mixing work and life.

I started this blog as a way to keep friends and family updated on this round of my thyroid cancer treatment, and I hope it’s been useful to you in that way. But it’s turned out to have another value. It’s been a space where I could sort through some of the myriad feelings that have cropped up in the last few months–feelings that I ignored or pushed through the last time, to no benefit at all.

But I’d be lying if I said it was easy to write so many of those thoughts down in a public place. I’ve hesitated to post entries like yesterday’s, and then even after I hit “publish,” I second guess myself. Am I coming off as too whiny? Ungrateful? Like I’m trying to get people to feel bad for me?

Those questions haunt me. I keep making myself write the less pleasant entries, anyway. I didn’t want this blog to be the white-washed version of cancer, or to give more ammunition to the people who call thyroid cancer “the good cancer.” Every cancer patient’s journey is different, and some more difficult than others, certainly. But cancer is cancer, and sometimes it just plain sucks. I couldn’t have written this blog and not been honest about that.

I’m encouraged, too, by so many other bloggers who have taken to the Web to share their (too often heartbreaking) stories. I’ve learned a lot from them about blogging and writing, yes, but also about adversity and love and triumph. I hope in some small way that I’ve been able to do some of the same with my measly 50 posts.

But now the question arises: What to do with the blog once this phase of treatment is over? I will go back to work in a few weeks, and I’m relatively sure you aren’t interested in the daily goings-on of a state government research group. I love writing, and especially writing in my own voice as I get to do here. But what should I write about from now on?

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4 thoughts on “Putting It All Out There

  1. You write so well, that it would be a shame for you to stop blogging. And, under all circumstances, we know there’s a lot more to your life than state policy. Tell us about recipes. Ballgames. Observations. Television. Anger. Happiness. Pleasures. Whatever is on your mind.
    That said, remember that the perfect is the enemy of the good, and relieve yourself of any self-imposed obligations about frequency of posts.
    Anyhow, that’s our two cents.
    [Also, by the way. You come off far from whiny or ungrateful. You come across like an amazing person.]

  2. Hopefully, you will have some just plain uneventful days coming up compared to right now when you can exhale a little. I somehow doubt that you have nothing to say. That would be a first. There will be plenty of good times to write about too.

  3. Keep the blog going! It’s A Storybook Life, not A Storybook Cancer, which would be grammatically nightmarish as well as reductionist. Post when you feel moved to. We love hearing what you have to say.

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