Lately I’ve considered leaving this blog. A lot. Maybe deleting it or maybe just leaving all the content here, in the hope that maybe at some point it will reach that one person who needs it someday. I can’t bring myself to do it.
Although I’ve had next to no time to write or update lately, and my track record for staying active on Twitter is abysmal, I still find myself noting things down during the day and thinking they’d make a great blog post. I still feel like maybe, just maybe, there will be somebody out there who really, really needs to read what I have to say, and that I’d be letting them down if I were to stop now. I still wonder if somewhere there is a gap in the market for a book to help families rebuild their lives after trauma. It’s just that sometimes, life is so hectic, and finding the words to explain how fucking heart-wrenching it is when my daughter asks about X, or what she vaguely remembers of him, it can be difficult to get it all written up and posted in a reasonable timescale.
And yet, whilst crying with laughter at “The Unmumsy Mum’s Diary” last night in bed, there were a hundred things going through my mind about this blog. Sarah Turner took all the things we were too afraid to say about motherhood, or indeed parenting and life in general, and she put them out there – thus making the rest of us similarly Unmumsy types feel relieved and somewhat competent. Her books have really helped me to feel better, and although I cover a completely different and much smaller parenting niche on my blog, I want to be like her. I want somebody to read about me crying and drinking straight bacardi at two in the morning, wondering how in the name of all that is holy I was ever going to make us a normal family again, and I want them to think, “Thank God it’s not just me!”, and I want them to know that in time they can get through it.
I truly wish that there wasn’t a need for my blog. I wish that the reason recovering from abuse in your family wasn’t talked about was because it just didn’t happen. Unfortunately that’s just not the case, and for as long as I get horrified stares and uncomfortable silences around the situation I will know that this blog still serves a purpose. So here I am, pledging to pay a little more attention to this thing, and to try to write a little more frequently.