contemplation

Today at work, I thought a lot about what I posted yesterday. I wondered if it was a good idea. I had two of my very best friends read it and tell me what they thought about me letting everyone in like that. See, I meant for that post to be lighthearted, to kind of introduce everyone to Norbert in a gentle way...and then all this vile black rage came flying out. I guess that's what happens when I give it free rein. One of the aforementioned friends asked me if I needed her to fuck up the person of whom I spoke in the "hypothetical" situation. (hee hee) The other said it was raw and honest and emotional, and expressed concern about me laying that out there to be digested and critiqued by those who have never dealt with it and are, therefore, incapable of empathy. She also said, quite rightly, that everybody has their own problems and mine probably won't make a dent.

I actually took it down this afternoon for about five minutes. I was going to rewrite it, purify it, make it fit for family consumption. I feel like a broken record--that I say the same things over and over again and I never get past any of it. I kept a diary all through high school. Over six hundred pages, many front and back. I have always written about myself and my life. Now I just don't do it on paper. Now I do it online.

You are reading my diary.

I decided not to change a word of it. That's me. That's how I feel, that's how I felt, and if I repeat myself a frillion times you certainly have the right to roll your eyes and make your exit. If you don't want to read it...don't. My mom doesn't. It upsets her. However, if you read it and you don't like what you read, take it up with me if you're going to get het up. This is my life. This is my diary. You may be part of it, you may not...but I have the right to say whatever the hell I want to say here. And my last post was...me. Uncensored. Take it any way you want.

One more thing...if you are reading this and you recognize yourself as the person in the "hypothetical" situation, I invite you to keep reading. I don't hold out a lot of hope, but maybe the realization that my weight has a whole lot to do with Norbert and less to do with me eating "lots of junk" will help you develop a little compassion for other people.