Redacted

I did something this week that I've never done before. I redacted a blog post; erased it from public view.

Now, I've said a lot of stupid, embarrassing, rude, way-too-personal things on this here blog. But even when I regret what I've written, I'm against deleting it. If I was stupid enough to put something into the public record (albeit anonymously), I have to stand by that stupidity. My thoughts & actions are still part of who I am, no matter how fleeting or temporary they might be. This blog is a snapshot of me in all different kinds of states. I can't just pretend the ugly moments never existed.

That said, something I wrote last week went way beyond my limits of propriety. (Yes, I do have limits.) In my ranting I revealed too much about a friend, and no matter how much I lay my own soul bare in this blog, I don't want to gossip about other people's personal issues. (Unless it's SnarkEx, who I feel gave up all such rights when she gave up on our marriage.) I felt uncomfortable about having it out there, and realized that the only way to make amends was to take it down.

I don't know if the person I wrote about reads this blog. I'm pretty sure he doesn't, but I did once send him the link. So it's possible, however remotely, that he reads the blog but doesn't ever mention it to me.

If you didn't see the post from last week and you're thinking, WTF?, let me summarize what I said. After a week of too much solitude, I was in a very low mood (which happens on occasion.) In a typical little brother tantrum, I essentially said, No one ever contacts me to do stuff. Why do I always have to reach out? They don't like me.

I then proceeded to air a decade's worth of grievances toward a certain friend, and that is where the pissiness got way too personal.

Ironically, the post got much more feedback (both positive and negative) than I usually get. Some people called me on the bullshit, but other people were inspired by it. This just goes to show there's good and bad in everything.

Like so many of my rants, there might have been a kernal of truth to what I said. I do think that, right now in my life, I do have to reach out to the majority of people more than they reach out to me. In many ways I have to give more than I get.

Trying to make sense of this, I set up an emergency meeting with my shrink. I ranted at him about these issues. Why do I feel like I'm the only person who initiates plans with people? Why does it seem like no one has time for me? He said that he thinks this is a sociological problem in our culture. People are just too busy, they overbook their lives, and many of them are not very good at maintaining friendships. He brought up a good point: a lot of people don't realize that friendships take work. You have to make a conscious effort to maintain them or they die.

There could be an even simpler explanation: I just have more free time than almost everyone I know. That's not a statement of my worth, just a fact. And there have been times in my life when I was on the other side of this dilemma. When I didn't have enough time for other people.

And saying that no one contacts me is just hyperbole. There are certainly people who contact me. All the time. Just not at exactly the times when I want them to. When I rant like I did, it makes people think I don't appreciate the times when they are there for me. But I do. I really do. In my bad moods I often blow things out of proportion. Again: Whiny. Little. Brother.

According to my shrink, I also take things too personally. And I overthink them. I can't argue with him there.