Part of my extended absence has been due to a massive internal struggle I’ve been dealing with.

I started this blog, in part, to journal about all the aspects of my illnesses. This includes all of the aspects of my physical symptoms AND my mental symptoms. This journaling is to help me deal with what is going on in my life, and to help anyone else that is struggling not to feel as alone.

Now, where is the struggle? Well, I have found myself holding back and not being completely honest with you. I’ve been leaving things out, under-telling symptoms, playing down physical symptoms, and just not touching on the mental aspect at all.

Why?

The answer to the why is where the struggle comes in.

I want people I know reading this, because I want them to understand what I’m going through so that I don’t always have to spend my energy and limited spoons explaining it to them time and time and time again. However, what I DO NOT EVER EVER EVER want is sympathy. I hate sympathy! Some of the reason I’ve been holding back is because some of the stuff I posted early on, that was honest but mild, caused some of the people I know in person to ooze sympathy at me (the “poor baby” type of sympathy) and it made me feel horrid and as if I should just be spending my days feeling sorry for myself. That is 100% NOT why I started this blog, so it made me not want to ever share that kind of stuff again.

I’ve also recently hit a point where I need to start talking about my past. This gets odd. My mom reads my blog. Overall, my parents were not horrible parents, and they are not terrible people. However, when it came to my health and my chronic conditions and mental health they did not necessarily do what was in my best interest. There were a lot of extenuating circumstances that sometimes made it necessary for them to make the decisions they made, and I am trying my best to understand that. The fact that my mom reads my blog is the biggest struggle I’m having right now. I love my parents, I really do. It has, however, gotten to a point where I can no longer discuss my illnesses without talking about my past and my mental health and what has been going on my whole life. However, I know that my mom will read it, and I don’t want her to take it personally. The few times I have tried to allude to my past have resulted in semi-tearful apologies of “failing me” and no one wants to say “you failed me,” if you think they did or not. It’s painful. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t deal with that kind of guilt right now. I’m already struggling with a lot.

It’s also hard trying to touch on my past because I know I’ll never be close with my family. Grama was the only family member I had that made me feel like I was unconditionally a member of my family. Oddly, she’s the only person I know that full on disowned a family member, but she was the only person I knew in my family that liked me for me and even saw the positive sides of the “negative” portions of my personality. Grampa also did, but he wasn’t around much when I was a kid because he was working so I just didn’t spend as much time with him as I did with Grama. I have never felt like I could be myself around my mom, dad, and sister. Every time I have tried, I’ve been told to change something or not do something, or I’ve been harshly criticized or ridiculed. However, I love my family, and I’ve always wanted to be a part of a closely knit family and desperately want their approval. I have an unhealthy codependent personality type and always die a little when people don’t like me for who I am. I know that personality type is unhealthy, but it’s how I’ve always been. The more I want someone to like me, the worse it hurts me when they don’t. It also makes me push really hard for approval. Trying to find that approval is part of why I’m struggling so much in telling the truth (as I see it: my personal truth). I’m terrified that in telling my past how I remember it and see it, that my family will decide they just don’t want to deal with me anymore and then I won’t ever get that approval.

My goal is not to vilify my family. My goal is to show people that they aren’t alone. Reading other chronic blogs, it is a lonely feeling not having family members that believed me when doctors didn’t. I want to help show people to believe in themselves even when no one else in the world does, and that they aren’t alone.

I’m sorry that I haven’t been honest with you, my dear readers. I am going to try to change that. I want to be honest, and I desperately need to for my own mental health.

To my mom, I’m sorry if I offend you in my honesty. That is not the case. Please do not think I am trying to target you. You are welcome to stop reading my blog, I will not take offense. I do love you all, very much.