It’s Wednesday again

Already? I swear the last one was only a week ago…

(Terrible joke, I know. But you should expect it by now.)

Now, I know that you are all eagerly at the edges of your seats, restlessly wondering what this week’s topic will be. Drum roll please. Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum…

(That’s how a drum roll is apparently spelt in my head. I literally googled “drum roll sound spelling” to no avail. Sorry.)

Today’s topic is… today’s topic.

Let me explain. I’ve been spending the past several days ho-humming about what to write about and a lot of things have crossed my mind, but nothing really stuck. Well, some things did stick, but they all seemed to carry the theme of being cathartic posts about stressful and consuming things happening in my life or on my mind. And while writing about these things would be an excellent relief and would really help me sort out my thoughts, I’m not sure I’m quite ready.

I did originally make this blog just for my own sake, and I still write each week for that same reason. But the stats don’t lie, and I cannot deny the fact any longer that I am the only one reading this.

(WordPress has this page that tells you how many people have visited your blog and where they are from. It’s a horrible ego inflator. Last week someone from the UK read my post. The UK! Now I feel obligated to post about the best way to “put the kettle on” and a glowing review of Ricky Gervais.)

Now that I’ve had this blog for a few weeks and have somewhat proven that I’m sticking too it, I feel like I can expand my subject matter to the uncensored things on my mind. I can talk about the really personal parts of my life, and go on tangents about things I’m freaking out about even if they have no happy resolution. I want to be brutally honest about how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking, even if it sounds a little scary or like I’m not entirely okay. But then I remember again that I’m not the only one who reads this. Part of me is hesitant because I don’t want to worry anyone, because I hate when people worry about me. And part of my thinks it’s none of your damn business.

I’m also worried for another reason, and it sounds like a pretty silly reason, but it worries me nevertheless. I’m concerned that if I were to talk about major issues I have faced or am facing, people would read it and think that it’s a cry for attention and that it’s a desperate call for some recognition and sympathy. But I could not say it any clearer than I AM NOT ASKING FOR YOUR ATTENTION OR SYMPATHY AT ALL WHATSOEVER.

(Woah, all caps. I must mean business.)

I just want to be able to treat this like a personal journal that other people happen to read. There is something incredibly releasing about posting my thoughts on the internet. I reread it and edit it and choose my words carefully, so it is like I am able to have a conversation with myself to work things out. Which is pretty cool. And also saves me a lot of money on therapy.

I also worry about offending anyone. Which sounds dumb as I read it. I just have this constant voice in the back of my head telling me that if I voice my opinion on pop culture or politics or religion or social conventions, a hoard of people will gasp, furrow their brows, and stalk off to the comment section to give me a piece of their mind, or otherwise smile at me in passing but secretly carry resentment towards me. Yeah, I know, I’m a little dramatic. The point is that I am actually the last person who would ever wish to offend anyone, and I really don’t find most of my personal opinions terribly offensive. I just want to speak my mind without fear of being hated.

So what will the future be for this blog? Who knows. I would really like to be candid and open, and even though I have reservations I think I’ll try it, for my own sake. It’s really your choice to read this blog, and while those little statistic numbers are so fun to look at, I need to be loyal to myself and my motivations behind this. I may start by dipping my toe before I totally commit (shout out to Laurence Follows and anyone who gets that reference), but prepare yourselves, because Marecredi may get a lot more personal in the future. And if you don’t like it, well then you can leave.

(I’m totally kidding. Please stay. Especially you, Mr. UK. Come for tea any time.)

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