But I couldn't post it. Probably I couldn't have done anyway, but to a degree it felt like lobbing a grenade into a garden party. That probably says more about my own stereotypes and prejudices as anything, but it did feel like a subject to which men might find it difficult to respond, and it seemed almost cruel to post it in a mostly male online environment. So I kept it, and rewrote it, and restrained it. And a month after that my hair started to grow back, and it was over.
But then, as you say, there's light, shade, and many options in between.
I've done some personal stuff here and I look back and wonder how I did it. Then I think I trusted ET more than I do now, I think that's probably something we've all been through and i'm not sure we're better for it.
I have stories I need to tell about some of the stuff i'm going through, after all, as someone once asked, how do I know what to think until I find the words to say it ? I am wordless and carrying a sack of ashes till I can dump it down. But is this the time ? Is this the place ? keep to the Fen Causeway
What I will say, though, as much to me as to you: if not here, if not now, then where? When? x
I submit it is wise to remember that any blog is essentially a Public Space where conversation is easily "overheard" and not forgotten; thus available at any time to people one would not want to have knowing personal stuff.
Second, the medium is so prone to mis-communication of intent, content, and tone that I, for one, tend to shy away from commenting on 'personal' diaries & comments.
I can understand why you found it hard to post your diary, Sassafras, but it's a pity because (apart from its "cathartic" usefulness to you in getting you to put your situation and feelings into words) you would probably have found you had the warm support of this community, and that might conceivably have been of some small comfort to you. Just as, when your difficulties in real life take you away from us, you are missed and thought of -- including by men.
And...it was such a small thing, really. I reminded myself daily that on the day I had to sit and cry in the doctor's car park before driving home, thousands of other people had probably done the same. And that most of them would have swapped places with me in a heartbeat. It even had its upside; I've never been a confident dresser, but that was The Summer I Wore Hats :). All of this was in the diary, and maybe I should have posted it. But the time has passed.
