Time out

I put myself in time out.  Like the disciplinary kind of time out in which you put your kid in the corner to get them to think about the what and why of their behavior, I needed a minute or a handful of months to reevaluate my goals in blogging.  If I’m being honest, it probably had a lot to do with the reason I presented you with, but also there could be an uglier, less altruistic reason.

Quite sincerely, I wanted to find my tribe.  To scour the internet for my fellow cyber sufferers.  Less so I could find sisterly solidarity from the masses of betrayeds and more so I could possibly offer them hope in healing.  Or maybe it was to give them permission to tell their stories.  Or to feel enraged and give them a place to honor their temporary crappiness because they saw others sitting there too.  I had discovered on this road paved in bitterness, hope, recovery, relapse, and the ever-cyclical grief process that the best way to do these things and find my fellow warriors was to expose myself.  To be vulnerable and real.  But still in a protected way that let me control the vulnerability and realness that you saw; that still made me appear endearing and triumphant even amidst the brokenness.

I’ll blame my other motivations for blogging on the sun sign to which I was born.  We all know that Cancers have a mastery for mothering and nurturing and being adorably lovable.  We are born to be caretakers and lovers and the most pleasant of our species.  And when I felt that my inherent identity was stripped from me by no fault of my own (woe is me), I responded in a typical Cancer way.  I wanted justice.  Cancers have a heightened sense of right and wrong and can become incensed or passionate about seeing justice prevail.  I had been subjected to this horrific series of events by my sworn protector(s) and yet this “wrong” would go largely unrecognized and unpunished and my betrayers would move forward unharmed (apart from the dead one, obviously).  As a peaceful, nonconfrontational Cancerian, what could I do?  I could tell my story.  And I could do it in a kind of anonymous yet totally obvious to those that did a little checking kind of way.  And magically, I could find healing, and give others a face to identify with, and passive-aggressively leak my really ugly story so that just maybe he wasn’t totally getting away with it.  I’m not sorry that I did it and I’ll speak more to that later.  But I’ve come to a bend in this road where I needed to better visualize where I go from here and what my horizon looks like.

And after months of procrastinating, forgetting all that I’ve learned and worked for on this journey, stumbling back around to proven practices, I’m again seeing why I started writing.  And I’m ready to be back in this space.  Hopefully with an even greater sense of self awareness.

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