Damn the Torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead

I had a great weekend camping with my daughter, Rhiannon, this past weekend. We stayed at an LCRA park in Bastrop, where we camped and explored and did a little stand-up paddling and kayaking with a group that I am a part of: Hill Country Outdoors. Great group, highly recommend if you live in the central Texas area and lack a tribe of folks of your own making who share your interests. Look 'em up. Worth it.

As I am wont to do in quiet moments, my mind began to drift inward as I was enjoying the weekend's activities. I found myself indulging in introspective psychoanalysis as it pertains to my blog. I have to laugh here as I tell you this: I have a friend who is well-versed in my tendencies to go inward in times of trouble, and her admonishment was, "that's not a place you want to go. That’s a bad neighborhood." Indeed.

To be forthright, I began asking myself why I feel compelled to not only maintain a blog, but to share (almost) every sordid detail to friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers alike. Sure, keeping a blog is fun for lots of folks, myself included. But that is where most similarities end. Most folks don’t feel compelled to share the stuff that I do. Indeed, most folks would do anything in their power to keep certain things on the down low to the best of their ability, and only show the “good stuff'... often a glorified version at that. Me? Not so much. But why? To be sure, I genuinely believe that in sharing my true self, I might enable others to feel that they, too, might be able to share of themselves, although most certainly in a far less public forum. To know that it’s okay to be vulnerable, to hurt, to need. To feel safe in revealing the kinks in one’s armor, so to speak. And conversely, for those fortunates who do not know the struggle many of us feel, I hoped to give mental illness a face. To show you that it doesn’t matter what one’s bank account looks like, nor the image one sees in the mirror. It doesn’t matter how many Facebook or Instagram friends you have, nor what alphabet soup follows your name on a business card. We are all human, and though some of us may struggle more than others, we are ALL part of a wonderful tapestry of individuals whose unique presence adds color and texture to the fabric of our shared humanity. And that mental illness is not to be feared, but rather to be dealt with as any other malady that one might face, such as cancer, diabetes, AIDS, or any other serious but manageable condition. In other words, do not fear us. Embrace us. Talk to us. Ask us. And maybe even celebrate us, because often the most troubled minds are also among the most bright and creative.

I feel like I have a platform in which to help those who suffer like me. But at the same time, I have to ask myself… Is that really all that motivates me? Yeah, those motivations are all well and good. Maybe misguided, but the intent is well-meaning. But still, I wonder, is there something more behind this? Is it that I find my keyboard is a more comfortable audience than flesh-and-blood people? And if that were solely the case, why publish? Why not purge on paper and let it go? Am I someone so desperate as to say, "Hey world, look at me! Hear me!"?  Am I doing this selflessly or selfishly?

The truth is, it is probably both. I wish it were otherwise, but I am selfishly motivated, at least in part. My blog helps me. It allows me to sort my thoughts and perhaps divest myself of some of the sh%# I carry. But at the same time I earnestly hope it helps someone else, too. It did last time I took up this project, and it was gratifying. But this time I have a strange sense of foreboding: "You're crazy, Tami. Stupid and crazy." I hope I'm wrong. I've decided to throw caution to the wind, and to plunge forward, come what may.

 The scariest part? Being wholly authentic to those I am most drawn to, whether friend, potential friend, or ---most intimidating of all--- a potential lover. Only my very, very closest friends know and accept me and my circumstances. But that circle is small, and I wish to expand...authentically. I want more people in my life, but I want to be accepted as I am, warts and all.

Yeah, I’m gonna share my blog with everyone and let the chips fall where they may. I figure that if I share my sh%@ here and you decide to stick around, you either believe that I’m worth it or you just like the drama. Either way, it's alright with me.

So, despite my inner misgivings, I am going to trudge forth. I’ll examine my conundrum further with professionals, but in the meantime, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead.

Happy trails!