Thinking Out Loud

Believe me when I say that if I were really to think out loud, you would all blush and likely think me more crazy than I've already confessed to being.  However, I feel the need to "think out loud" today because my move back to this blog has fired up that bitch in my head who refuses to shut the hell up and go away.

For a long while, she's been very quiet.  While my beast sleeps, she doesn't have much to say...except.  Except when I let my guard down.  Then she comes roaring back to life like a pre-menstrual woman without any chocolate who's husband has just asked her for the eleventythousandth time why she's so bitchy.

Yeah...that bad and that loud.

I've been in kind of a funk lately.  I'm pretty sure it's either related to the weather (rain?  again?  really?) and it may just be cyclical, but my usual happy state of zen has definitely been interrupted and she has taken this opportunity to start up a conversation...

Me:  What should I wear today.

Her:  Why bother?  Nothing looks good on you.  You're fat and getting fatter everyday.  Why not just give up and eat whatever you want whenever you want.  Doesn't matter anyway.  You're weak and you'll never lose the weight.

Me (remember, it's 7:00 am...my defenses don't get up until after 9:00 am at least):  Maybe you're right.  I'll just put on this blousy shirt that looks like shit on me and cover it with a jacket.

Her:  Jacket?  Oh that's good.  So now you'll look like a fat, sweaty old woman.  That will be good for your credibility.

Me:  Sigh.

On the outside I'm still the happy, optimistic "go-to" person I've always been, but inside I'm waging a war with myself.  Some days I win a battle or two and some days she wins.  Today she's winning.

It all started with this damn move of my blog.  I swear I am the most fickle blogger on the planet.  I am consistently changing my font, or my background or my address.  I get bored and change something.  (Same way I'm constantly rearranging furniture in my home.  I get bored and want a new look!)  I never thought that much about it until people actually started reading what I write.

The fact is, I've been thinking about coming back over to this blog for awhile now.  The other one is nice but it doesn't feel authentic.  I'm a homebody at heart...this is home.

Me:  Oh my God!  I got 52 page views today.  People are actually reading what I write.

Her:  They probably just clicked on the link by accident.

Me:  No.  Some of them leave actual comments!  And they're wonderful and funny and touching.

Her:  Well did you check out (insert name here)'s blog?  She/He got 475 page views yesterday and has 45 comments and they don't change their blog as often as they change their underwear.

Me:  So...what's your point?  Why do you want me to compare myself to someone else?  I'm not anyone else...I'm just me.

Her:  Well obviously you're not good enough.

Me:  Oh shut up.

Her:  Never.

So when Google FINALLY approved my AdSense but put it on the wrong blog...

Her:  You can't go back.  No one will follow you.  You're getting on their nerves.  Just shut it down.  GIVE UP!  You're blogging life is over.  You'll never make any money on AdSense - you're just kidding yourself.  GIVE IT UP!  Take some of your own advice and let. it. go.

Me (trying not to get angry because getting angry with myself creates this weird paradox that I have a hard time figuring out):  I've tried shutting it down and giving up.  I can't.  This is my therapy.  Even if no one ever reads it, I HAVE to come out here and empty what's rolling around in my head or I'll go crazy.  It doesn't matter where I write it down - just that I write it down.  Besides, I have to write about bitches like YOU or I spend all my time obsessing about this shit rather than just LIVING.  I jeopardize the happy.  I can't risk the happy.

Her:  (crickets)

Me:  Now shut the fuck up and go back to your cave. 

Her:  I'll be back.

Me:  I know.


Namaste