Fumbling in the Dark

Went to dinner with a friend tonight and she asked if I was still having fun blogging or if it was getting old. I still love the daily posting, but have gotten into a bad habit of waiting to post until right before bed. Believe it or not at 12:30am (or 1:45am tonight), my motivation is lacking. I want to skip posts some nights. I'm not doing this project for other people, but at the same time understand how vital an audience is to the process. Having an audience (no matter how small) has surprised me not only in the amount of support and encouragement I've felt, but in the effect blogging is having on my family and friends. The main reason I'm even posting tonight is because I was reading the blog of the friend who I had dinner with tonight and saw a post where she talked about me and what I'm doing here on this blog. She's reading, some of what I'm saying about myself is resounding with her, and she's been encouraged because of that. This matters, even if it's just to her, what I'm doing matters.

My whole family is now reading, which is a little daunting, encouraging but terrifying. Even as I type this I'm picturing them listening in. I've mentioned this before, but as curious as I am about who's reading, the anonymity of an audience is actually probably best when it comes to preventing myself from self-censoring. Knowing my mom or dad is probably reading each word makes this experience more intimate, and increases vulnerability as I'm exposing myself to people that I interact with in the real world outside of this online shield. My friends know me by my honesty so it may surprise them how reserved I can be inside of my own family. Retarded emotional development my counselor would say about this. I'm sure I'm not the only one out there who finds it riskier to be vulnerable within your blood relationships than with acquaintances. Somehow when it's inside the family it just matters more. I know I am loved and accepted for exactly who I am and that's comforting. But emotions between kin seem to carry more weight. Hurts are more tender, joys are more raucous, everything is just heavier. I'm being terribly inarticulate here. (Inarticulateness seems to increase with the lateness of the hour.) I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. I began this post unsure of what to say and now I've said something. It may be foggy and cluttered with confusion. I feel like an emotionally impaired person fumbling around in the dark trying to express something kind and meaningful to those who matter most to me, but failing to find the light switch illuminating what it is I really want to say.

So here's to a totally imperfect rambling post. If you've read this far, I'm sure you can extract some small sentiment. If not, let me just tell you now, thanks for reading, thanks for being a friend, thanks for being a Hogan, whoever you are thanks for bearing with me as I try to find my way in the dark.