I am an over-sharer. Once I get talking or typing I will spill much more than in required by circumstance and divulge intimate pieces of my life and my opinion with reckless abandon. And it is not so much that I innately trust some people, I pretty much have no qualms about rehashing my entire 5th grade experience, my concern about my GI track, or pronouncing my perspective on things I know little of to quite a range of people. The sweet and caring drunk older lady at the bar that one night a few months ago who played confess-your-deep-dark-secrets with me. The awesome family members that put up with infrequent phone calls versus random gut spilling emails. Girlfriends who know that I have a tendency to dominate a conversation if I am not conscious of maintaining the balance. (Luckily most of the women I surround myself with are loudmouths too, who have no issue with shooshing me so they can have the spotlight for a bit. We all know that this is acceptable etiquette during repartee.)
I have gotten better, in a way, about not spilling the beans about whatever my little heart desires (minus during heated, beer swilling evenings) at the drop of a hat. Now I insert a pause and perhaps a few questions to the other person before running my mouth.
Which brings me to this blog. I pretty much only do stream of consciousness writing. I open a page, start typing and see what happens. There's a lot happening lately that needs an outlet, and if I really let myself I could post all sorts of entries. But the time isn't right. I don't know if it will ever be right. I might get there one day, but may well have moved on from blogging by then to writing novels or poetry in bathroom stalls. You never can tell.
It feels weird to self edit as the things I can write about keep shrinking. If I talk about work, I risk client confidentiality; if I blab about the personal lives of myself and friends, I risk the friendships themselves; if I put it all out there, I could cause some strong reactions (and by no means sparkling and positive in nature). So now I have all these ideas running around in my head, eating their own tails and nipping other's ankles. Is it possible that I am learning a lesson about restraint and timing? I think this may be the case and its not a bad deal. It makes for lackluster posts until I can find some random foible of daily life that no one cares if I rant in detail about, but I think we will all live.
