For the second time this year I’m starting my blog with an apology, which might not seem shocking if it wasn’t for the fact this is only the second post I’ve written in 2016.
The truth is I’ve been a bit of a plonker for the last few months and I’ve done the opposite of what I intended to do in January and totally neglected writing this blog.
I never meant to leave it this long, I even started a few posts but couldn’t find the words – it’s like I ran out of things to say, which isn’t like me at all.
There’s something about writing all day – sitting in front of a computer screen typing away so loudly that aliens can probably hear me on Mars – that just means the last thing I want to do when I get home is write: hardly a great quality for an aspiring novelist I know!
But last night as I lay awake in bed tired, my mind jabbering on about things I needed to do and listening to my stoma perform its own one man band version of Pomp and Circumstance for hours on end, it dawned on me that I was missing writing my blog and talking to you all.
You see while I like to think these blogs help people in their own little way; raise awareness and maybe give everyone something to smile about in the darker moments of their lives, I have to admit that they help me in so many ways that it’s hard to put it into words.
When i first started this blog and told the whole wide world about my ostomy there were a few people who were startled. I got a few “I don’t think this is wise/ good idea” warnings, some were concerned I might live to regret sharing Winnie with the world, while I think some others were just a bit freaked out, and I’m sorry to say a bit disgusted.
But I didn’t care, I decided to push it aside and get on with it: us Ulcerative Colitis sufferers are made of stern stuff.
Writing these blogs is therapy to me, I know that now.
I started this whole thing at a time when I needed people to accept me, when I needed help and security, and when I longed for people to understand.
Yes I wanted to try to help people, but I loved getting the feedback, the advice, the tips, and I have been at times moved to tears by some of the lovely emails I’ve had from people who tell me how my blog makes them feel happier, or makes them or their Nan, or their son laugh, or has just raised a small smile in some strange way.
I’ve found my acceptance on here, but I have also broken too many promises.
Life has caught up with me and I have to admit that unless I quit my job and miraculously win the lottery I never play – plus also got Bernard’s watch out of the 90s children’s show prop closet that time forgot – I am never going to get close to completing those 101 challenges I ambitiously drew up in my morphine fogged weeks after surgery.
Why I thought 101 was the best number and not 30, or 15, or even 5, God only knows, but I know for a fact i never expected to have another lot of surgery that would take so many more months away from my plans – my only excuse is I must have been high as a kite.
So I’m not going to be able to do 101 challenges, I’m upset about that but also somewhat relived. I am going to be able to do some of them, but I’m not going to promise which as I’m starting to think my promises can’t be relied on any more.
But one thing I can tell you is that I want to keep on blogging and that I am back, I can almost hear a little groan of exasperation from the other side of the computer.
A little tired, a little bit older and a little bit more weird than before, but I am back and determined to be a blogger again.