Resistance

This is the first time in a very long time I've only had one place to write on the interwebz. Up until...a couple of months ago this was my secondary place; my public space. The other place was a more personal online diary, only viewable to a select number of people. It was the space where to some extent I could let it all hang out and do more process writing, venting, pretty much whatever I guess.

Not anymore. This is it. Just Life at My Level. I've got another blog linked to my Blogger profile entitled Being Leisa but that remains empty. It all seems too complicated to write content for both; and I'm not even sure what Being Leisa was supposed to be all about anyway.

Tonight I miss the diary space. I miss that space of just letting go and not really worrying about content; not thinking about whether or not my words are thought provoking, or funny, or encouraging. I miss that space where it feels like me and a bunch if my friends just hanging out and chewing the fat together. I miss that space where I can just lay my thoughts and ideas and emotions on the table and have a couple of trusted people answer back and help me see a way through the tangle. 

But I stopped doing that for reasons that are my own and made Life at My Level my only space. I know I hold the reins tightly with this space. Mainly because I know a lot of my audience personally. They don't comment on here...but they tell me they're reading.

I've been asked once or twice why I feel the need to expose myself here. Funny, I think I'm pretty subdued here. Honestly, I'm constantly amazed at how much some bloggers put online. Amazed in a good way really. I admire their candour. I wish I had the freedom to be so sometimes. 

I read something today that expressed succinctly the reason I blog:

I believe this wholeheartedly. I've experienced healing through some of my writings...and felt connected to people who, even though they are not experiencing the same things as me, still process the same emotions - especially those of being unsure and insecure with their own selves. It's brought me a measure of comfort.

There are still many more stories I wish I could tell. So many thoughts and emotions are running scattered throughout me tonight and I wish I could just write them all out, just so "they no longer threaten the life they belong to". (Breathe - Anna Nalik) For now they'll just stay buried. I'll have to try and silence them with sleep.

It's cold tonight.