Of all the drafts I prepared, written and otherwise, I am publishing this one out of an inspiration from my friend Ida’s tweet earlier today.
She was right when she said more people are going back to blogging on a more personal approach nowadays. I remember the times when I wrote anything and everything and the concept of oversharing was the very core of blogging. I did not evolve into becoming a blogger whom lots of people read and followed, but that kind of sharing eventually lost steam with me anyway. I blogged profusely and more coherently a decade ago when the people I wanted to get my thoughts to were actually reading them. I tried to keep it alive but I don’t know, if it was maturity or a change in platform preference, or whatever but it did die.
The good thing about it is it can always be revived.
The practice was indeed therapeutic. I wrote because I wanted to. I think I was the best audience I had. Writing saved me many times. It’s not always online! And oh, the man I recently had feelings for bore the brunt of that inclination to write, and write, and write. “Holy shit, that took a long time to read,” he once said. And to think I was not even on a roll in that slew of Viber messages. Amateur. 😉
And taking off from that, yes, I am nursing a broken heart. When people comment on how much weight I lost and ask me what I did, my default joke of a reply is, “I’m falling apart.” But of course it is belittling genuine breakdowns, including mine if you think about it. So no, it’s not ENTIRELY because of that, but I’ve been watching what I eat because of a recent Biggest Loser contest in the office (where I did not win) and because I’m borderline hypertensive already. The best part about losing a few pounds is having old clothes fit again, and not having to buy new ones or wear the same ones over and over. But on the downside, and this is coming from someone who has been overweight all her life, is that I lost my ass. My chest, too. Which made me think, was it all side and back fats all along? Me no like! The part about the butt pissed me a bit. Maybe that’s a good reason to go back to the gym and do butt-firming workouts. I really detest how flat it looks now. Wow, this paragraph is mostly about my ass.
Right now, aside from firming up my now-flat ass, I try to keep myself busy. Healthy distraction is key. I am not ready (and never will be, I guess) to completely tell once again what happened (as my journal is already witness to my most recent non-love story, pages bleeding from feelings), but suffice to say, making myself occupied will work in my favor. Why? Because idleness leads to reliving moments and could have beens, and frankly, I confessed to one of my bestfriends I am at that stage where I wanted to turn back time so I can do better, in hopes that the outcome would be different. She told me I was stupid, of course.
Anyway, I guess this is enough ‘welcome post for the nth time’ for me. Brace yourselves (or not), the emotional oversharer is at it again.
How have you been?