Blogging 101: A Post for My Dream Reader

Hummmm, who is the one person or persons I really want to read my blog?

An easy answer! My family of course! I think! I am not sure because…

I cringe at the thought of them reading it. Their shallow thoughtless pettiness would rip through my thoughts, feelings and ideas, trying to find ways to make them invalid. Afterall, they are the victims of my cruel dramatic intentions.

I hope for the dawn of understanding, an inkling of love.  A want to finally know me for who I really am, not the controlled puppet they envision fitting into their painfully misaligned version of family. The song “Fight” from The Dirty Youth reminds me of my angry, fighting, controlling, manipulating family.


I dream of the day they stop blaming and start trying to act like family. Why is it so hard for them to comprehend that love from a family should not include backstabbing, telling lies, making up stories, abuse, neglect, yelling, screaming, blame, misery and ignoring the truth. True family is love, understanding, forgiveness, knowing, friendship, happy, enjoyment and getting through life together.

So many careless words and horrible actions. It just drives the hurt in. I try to keep it out. It has been four years since I last spoke to anyone in my family accept my one sister but still the uncaring actions and words manage to find their way back to me. Four years and yet they still manage to find ways to blame me and ridicule me. It is these unhealthy actions that keep me away permanently.

I know if they read my blog, it would give them more fodder to work with. Laying one’s feelings and emotions out for the world to see, including them, is not always easy. I do it to help myself. They would call it being a drama queen, so the world could pity me and feel sorry.

I do not write it for that. I write it to help myself deal with the pain. It is an outlet, an attempt at release so I do not carry the anger, hurt and pain inside me. It is the healthy way I deal with helping myself.

Sometimes I question myself. Maybe I do not know myself as well as I think or I am trying to. Maybe I am being a drama queen. Maybe the problem is me and I am too messed up in the head to know it. But then again, maybe I got it right and I am doing the best I can. Instilled self-doubt and the idea I am always wrong are the hardest things to overcome and some of the strongest forms of abuse my family left inside me. It sits, hides, waiting to rear its ugly head.

Is it wrong to continue to dream of the day they will stop with the games and be a loving family? Unrealistic, I know, but it is really so wrong to miss my family and wish things could change? I have changed so much. I just wish they cared enough to find out how, why and who I am. I want out of their box. I am me, not the backboneless mat they used to use to wipe their feet on. I am strong, loving, caring, smart, interesting and so much more.

I will continue to dream and live with the understanding my wishes and dreams in this matter are unlikely to come to pass. Today and every day after, I live for me. I choose to surround myself with people who love me. No one is perfect, but pain inflected in thoughtless oblivion is irresponsible and unloving.

So are my dream readers really the ones I want to read my blog? I still do not know. I do wish for love and acceptance but the realisation their reading this will probably bring more suffering, makes me think maybe not. Maybe my dream reader is still strangers in cyberspace. I continue to ponder…



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