I've been thinking about my blog quite a bit lately. Thinking about how I need/want to blog, but that I don't know what to write anymore. In the beginning it was clear. I was documenting all the stories that were funny or making me mad. Life was just pissing me off and I loved to rail about it and you enjoyed reading about it, or so it seemed. Then, it turned to more of my weight-loss journey and self-discovery. Now, it depends on the day as to what words come out on the page. It's more of Lost Pony than Angry Pony. Which makes me wonder, is it time to stop this blog? Put the pony out to pasture? I just don't know.
I put a post on FB earlier today stating that I was thinking about closing it down, but wanted to save the stories and asked for folks to send me some tips if they knew how to do this. I received a few private messages asking me why I was going to stop blogging. People were saying they didn't think I should stop. But I have to ask myself, have I lost my edge? Have I lost my way? Do I have anything to say that anyone wants to hear anymore?
In this current age of everyone getting offended about everything and people wanting the hate to stop (self included), is there a place for Angry Pony? Maybe being this Angry Pony is holding me back from everything I want in life? Maybe Angry Pony's outlook is the problem? See, shit just got real there. It's so complicated. AND, honestly, how many times can I talk about my FCD? How many times can Spanx/Pranx be a topic of discussion? I mean we are NEVER going to figure out how to use that pee hole in the crotch of those damn things. How many times can we talk about the bathroom situation at the Glass Palace and people coming to hiring events in Unicorn Poop t-shirts and mismatched shoes? How many times can we talk about my lack of ability to lose weight? How many times can we talk about my boobs going East and West when I lay down and my arm fat...and muffin top? How many times can we talk about how stupid doctors are? Admittedly, that never gets old, because seriously, buncha idiots with fancy paper in a frame on the wall. How many times can I possibly get trapped in stall one with my bracelet stuck to the back of my tights and I'm in a bind? Actually, that is an on-going problem, seriously. How many dead things are going to rot under my house? How many times can people piss me off in traffic? And vaginas. I mean, they've come up a few times. Who blogs about vaginas? Or shitting their pants? (raises hand, looks around room, sees no one else's hand is up...puts hand back down)
Now, let's talk about self-discovery, how much self-discovery can the world handle? How many Therapy Thursdays can we review? I mean, my God, aside from the Rug Doctor, I've now added a Psychiatrist to the support team of people that keep me from losing my mind because I need to figure out why I'm such a mess. This whole 45th year of my life has been non-stop angst. So much change, so much turmoil, so much aimless wandering to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do with my life and how to get what I want before I'm dead. I'm about to turn 46. Maybe my birthday will end this crazy cycle...magically. As if the clock strikes midnight and this nightmare is over. But my life has never been a fairy tale, so I'm not holding out hope for that. Besides, hope is not a strategy.
In looking back over the last few years, I have shared some really personal stuff on here. I have also shared some seriously embarrassing stuff. I mean, after reading the Fifty Shades of Gray books, I blogged about the first time I had sex (I mean, it was a pretty epic tale, in my mind). Nothing has been off the table, except my bosses at work (for the most part), family drama and my sex life with Shark Bait. But even that isn't really true, because I have made a couple vague references. And, for some reason you all followed me down this road. I don't know why, but I know some of you have said different stories have resonated with you or made you feel better knowing you were not alone. For that, I'm glad. We are all in this life together and whatever we may be portraying on FB, the reality is, life is hard and painful and sometimes ugly. Pretending that underbelly doesn't exist is not helpful, in my mind. At the same time, life is also beautiful and precious. I need to spend more time remembering that.
At any rate. I'm writing this tonight because I don't know what I will do with this blog yet. I'm torn. I guess I will give it some more thought. Maybe just take a long break, or a short break, or maybe I'll just chain watch episodes of Family Feud and pet my wiener while sitting in my recliner until I die. It's a crap-shoot right now. If this does end up being the last blog, thanks for reading and coming on Angry Pony's journey. If it doesn't end up being the last...well...I guess I'll blog some more.
I put a post on FB earlier today stating that I was thinking about closing it down, but wanted to save the stories and asked for folks to send me some tips if they knew how to do this. I received a few private messages asking me why I was going to stop blogging. People were saying they didn't think I should stop. But I have to ask myself, have I lost my edge? Have I lost my way? Do I have anything to say that anyone wants to hear anymore?
In this current age of everyone getting offended about everything and people wanting the hate to stop (self included), is there a place for Angry Pony? Maybe being this Angry Pony is holding me back from everything I want in life? Maybe Angry Pony's outlook is the problem? See, shit just got real there. It's so complicated. AND, honestly, how many times can I talk about my FCD? How many times can Spanx/Pranx be a topic of discussion? I mean we are NEVER going to figure out how to use that pee hole in the crotch of those damn things. How many times can we talk about the bathroom situation at the Glass Palace and people coming to hiring events in Unicorn Poop t-shirts and mismatched shoes? How many times can we talk about my lack of ability to lose weight? How many times can we talk about my boobs going East and West when I lay down and my arm fat...and muffin top? How many times can we talk about how stupid doctors are? Admittedly, that never gets old, because seriously, buncha idiots with fancy paper in a frame on the wall. How many times can I possibly get trapped in stall one with my bracelet stuck to the back of my tights and I'm in a bind? Actually, that is an on-going problem, seriously. How many dead things are going to rot under my house? How many times can people piss me off in traffic? And vaginas. I mean, they've come up a few times. Who blogs about vaginas? Or shitting their pants? (raises hand, looks around room, sees no one else's hand is up...puts hand back down)
Now, let's talk about self-discovery, how much self-discovery can the world handle? How many Therapy Thursdays can we review? I mean, my God, aside from the Rug Doctor, I've now added a Psychiatrist to the support team of people that keep me from losing my mind because I need to figure out why I'm such a mess. This whole 45th year of my life has been non-stop angst. So much change, so much turmoil, so much aimless wandering to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do with my life and how to get what I want before I'm dead. I'm about to turn 46. Maybe my birthday will end this crazy cycle...magically. As if the clock strikes midnight and this nightmare is over. But my life has never been a fairy tale, so I'm not holding out hope for that. Besides, hope is not a strategy.
In looking back over the last few years, I have shared some really personal stuff on here. I have also shared some seriously embarrassing stuff. I mean, after reading the Fifty Shades of Gray books, I blogged about the first time I had sex (I mean, it was a pretty epic tale, in my mind). Nothing has been off the table, except my bosses at work (for the most part), family drama and my sex life with Shark Bait. But even that isn't really true, because I have made a couple vague references. And, for some reason you all followed me down this road. I don't know why, but I know some of you have said different stories have resonated with you or made you feel better knowing you were not alone. For that, I'm glad. We are all in this life together and whatever we may be portraying on FB, the reality is, life is hard and painful and sometimes ugly. Pretending that underbelly doesn't exist is not helpful, in my mind. At the same time, life is also beautiful and precious. I need to spend more time remembering that.
At any rate. I'm writing this tonight because I don't know what I will do with this blog yet. I'm torn. I guess I will give it some more thought. Maybe just take a long break, or a short break, or maybe I'll just chain watch episodes of Family Feud and pet my wiener while sitting in my recliner until I die. It's a crap-shoot right now. If this does end up being the last blog, thanks for reading and coming on Angry Pony's journey. If it doesn't end up being the last...well...I guess I'll blog some more.
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| Which way do I go? |
