Why Do You Blog?

I've been wondering lately why others blog. I started my blog for the sheer fun of it and to be able to purge myself of certain ghosts in my past. Apparently, the latter worked, because I no longer feel the need to tell stories of my mother, The Brown Recluse. Nor do I want to tell stories of my lifelong absent father or my brother who used to beat the crap out of me on a daily basis. This would be a good thing, yes? Well, get over it. I'm sure I'll write more about them later, but I feel expunged for now.

I was encouraged to begin a blog by a friend (K. K. @ MidlifeGals) who was having a ball writing with her sister Sal Gal on their own blog. I didn't really know what I wanted or expected from my own blog, so the ideas about what kind of blog I'd have were thrown around for a bit before making that final decision. Above all else I wanted to write a blog where I could say anything and everything I feel like saying (which horrified Mr. Snoots because he's straight-laced like that). It didn't take long to find out that you catch a LOT of flak from people when you speak the truth from your heart, gut, or wherever it comes from. Apparently, you are not allowed to voice opinions without being chastised by hordes of complete and total strangers (fondly referred to as Trolls) who mostly post anonymously. I don't care for that side of blogging in the least, so I play it safe these days which is much less stressful. I didn't start blogging to add more stress to my life, believe me.

Fine. I understood. Sort of. So, I tried writing about humorous things that have happened to me over the years. Yup. You guessed it! I received more flak from a variety of anonymous commenters. Gah... People are so sensitive these days when it comes to something they are passionate about, and it's usually something that I am not in the least passionate or sensitive about. Like rabbits, for instance. Sure, they are cuddly and adorable but they reproduce like... well... rabbits. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to be on the endangered species list anytime soon. So why would anyone care about one jumping in my son's toilet and accidentally drowning (and me breaking into hysterical laughter over it) on my 40th birthday that was now 17 years ago?

So that didn't work out either. Fine again. I knew politics and religion were not something I wanted to write about but I mistakenly did it anyway because surely no one would ever give a rat's ass what I think about anything. No one in my real life does, so why should someone I don't even know care about my thoughts and beliefs? Apparently, their lives were as boring as my own, only they felt the need to reach out and hurt someone.... like me. I have NEVER left a mean or nasty comment on anyone's blog and I never will. If something is said in someone's blog disturbs me, then I move on to another and don't go back. That seems like a *no-brainer* to me, but then I'm confrontation challenged.

So I decided to take yet another turn with my writing and spill my guts to an entire group of people I don't know and likely never would. Although embarrassing to some extent, my stories of growing up were just that. My. Stories. Why would anyone care what my life was like growing up? Surprisingly, readers couldn't get enough of it. However, after so many of those stories, I realized that I no longer felt the need to purge myself of my past. So for that, blogging has been a money-saving and highly successful endeavor. It has honestly been better for me than any amount of therapy could have ever been. I always prefer to have more than one opinion on the twists and turns my life has taken over the years.

Herman Melville put it best when he said, "We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results."

Not long after I began blogging I got caught up in the whole comment *tit for tat* thing, which suddenly became a chore. I hate it when things I really like to do, become a chore. It makes me want to stomp my feet and let out a primal scream as I go running off into the abyss. Then I had to take a break because I was beginning to think and act a little crazy. After that, I came back because obviously, I felt happy here in blogland. Now, I think I actually crave everything about my little corner of blogland and it has become somewhat of a *Love Potion No. 9* for me. Or something like that. And, if I don't leave a comment on your blog post from time to time, it just means either I don't know what to say, can't think of something nice to say, or I've had a busy day. That's all it means, nothing more. However, can I just say here that blogging hurts my ass every bit as much as gardening did? There! I said it. The truth is out.



And, I gave up gardening. I'm just sayin'....

Soooooooooo.... What's your excuse?