Identity, Mental Health

Mental Miranda Rights

Blog.  Web log.  Log of Thoughts and Happenings.  Journal.

When one connects the dots, it becomes apparent that writing a blog is essentially opening wide the pages of one’s journal and allowing the world to read.

There are certain thoughts or musings I keep between the covers of my hardcopy journal, but since I’ve started blogging, I do frequent those pages fewer and farther between.

It’s interesting seeing people whom I know read my blog.

Have they read the latest post chronicling my latest neurosis?  When they ask how I’m doing, do they mean, are you stable?  Or have they not read and really want to know how things are going?  Do I update close friends on my true status or will I be repeating myself?  Do I allude to a topic I’ve covered online, thinking they already know the details?  Or am I assuming a steady readership?

I usually worry that I’m baring my soul to people with whom I’d never discuss such things in a face-to-face conversation.  And will they judge me for it?  Will they see me in a different light now that they know the brand of crazy I am?

We all struggle.  With something.  At some point.  There’s some crazy skeleton hanging in every person’s closet.  But most people don’t write about it and then post it on-line for the world to see (if they so choose).  I’ve never had a good poker face and I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve.  Perhaps I am just the sort of person who would share such details publicly.  But I’ve also always been the type of person who demands that you take me as I am.  I may obsess about whether you will or not.  And worry myself sick if you don’t, but at the end of the day, I am who I am.

So while I might wonder if that pause between words is you calling to mind my self-indicting ones, or if that quiet look is one of pity or concern, I cannot be anything other than truthful.  And there’s no sense pretending to be perfect because everyone knows that’s a lie straight out the gate anyway.  I’d rather be honest and flawed.

Just don’t hold it against me.


9 thoughts on “Mental Miranda Rights

  1. Dear Jennifer,
    There is no “brand of crazy”.
    The only door you need to open …is your own. Each of us has our own door knob with key.
    “… thine own self be true…”
    YOU are beautiful.


  2. Jennifer Butler Basile says:

    Re: the door knob with key – as in, lock it up and throw away the key!? Ha.

    Yes, as many worries as I put myself through, I am true to my own self in the end.

    Thank you. And same to you!


  3. I think the hardest part is for people who knew you before you began your blog. When you show the world a part or a side of yourself that was hidden away it can leave some people questioning how well they really knew you to begin with. I ‘like’ the you that I know, warts and all, as they say.


    • Jennifer Butler Basile says:

      Whether or not they knew that side of me, I think it still makes some people uncomfortable. I’ve had people tell me it makes them sad to read what I’ve written or to think what I’ve gone through. Then I feel bad! But most times, by the time it hits here, it’s over and done. I’ve already lived it. And it’s cathartic to write about it. And while I’m glad they care for me and perhaps are being empathic toward me, I hate feeling like I need to apologize for making them sad. Plus, I’m the one living it! I think it does come as a surprise though from someone who’s usually smiling and laughing!

      Thanks for ‘liking’ me just the way I am! Hairy warts and all!


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