A quick public service announcement.
I think I'm done here. I'd reccomend against using this place to get a hold of me any further.
I'm not the sort to tell you what to do.
But whatever you do, if it's here, it'll be without me.
For the longest time, I've had an open update window in front of me. Just empty. I can't honestly figure out the point.
It's not like I can use this as a forum to immediate alleviate some anger or some frustration, or to explain a problem. For the most part, the forum aspect of this mode of communication makes me feel like I'm trying to get other people's help or support... which isn't me...it isn't me by half.
It's a big part of why I disabled comments... a journal isn't supposed to be this website where someone can log in and throw on some halfassed opinion about what's bothering you. It isn't a place you go to say something depressing, and count up how many pat on the back messages accumulate. It's supposed to be private, and personal.
It's neither private or personal. I'm certain whatever tidbit I bother to type here that is in anyway personal will be the punchline of one of it's reader's stories to try and make themselves seem interesting at my expense.
Or it'll be used as an easy way to keep tabs on me, by people that may or may not see the actual need to contact me, but don't anyways.
I'm forced to grit my teeth and smile at this screen, just like I do to coworkers and my extended family... to put on this layer of pretense to keep form looking like the emotional trainwreck I've been for weeks/months.
What this is becoming is a chore.
A chore I'm in no way obligated to do anymore.
I'm not the sort to tell you what to do.
But whatever you do, if it's here, it'll be without me.
For the longest time, I've had an open update window in front of me. Just empty. I can't honestly figure out the point.
It's not like I can use this as a forum to immediate alleviate some anger or some frustration, or to explain a problem. For the most part, the forum aspect of this mode of communication makes me feel like I'm trying to get other people's help or support... which isn't me...it isn't me by half.
It's a big part of why I disabled comments... a journal isn't supposed to be this website where someone can log in and throw on some halfassed opinion about what's bothering you. It isn't a place you go to say something depressing, and count up how many pat on the back messages accumulate. It's supposed to be private, and personal.
It's neither private or personal. I'm certain whatever tidbit I bother to type here that is in anyway personal will be the punchline of one of it's reader's stories to try and make themselves seem interesting at my expense.
Or it'll be used as an easy way to keep tabs on me, by people that may or may not see the actual need to contact me, but don't anyways.
I'm forced to grit my teeth and smile at this screen, just like I do to coworkers and my extended family... to put on this layer of pretense to keep form looking like the emotional trainwreck I've been for weeks/months.
What this is becoming is a chore.
A chore I'm in no way obligated to do anymore.