To blog or not to blog?

So a lot has been happening in the past couple of weeks, but I have not sat down to write about it yet--mostly because I know as soon as I sit down to write I will have to process, and once I start processing there will probably be lots of thinking and praying and crying and laughing and generally an utterly exhausting output of emotion involved, and I'm just not sure if I have yet worked up the courage to start that process. It always has to happen eventually, but it takes courage to let yourself start--or I don't know, maybe just to let myself start. Is this true for everyone, or is it just particularly difficult for those of us who like to stuff our emotions to the breaking point? Or would I ever reach the breaking point if I did not hold things at arms length in an attempt to "make it through the day"? It's an interesting dilemma, and every time I believe firmly that I have turned over a new leaf and figured out how to consistently process emotions without hiding them...I find myself in a new situation where there is something daunting to deal with, and I am much more comfortable going into "survival mode" than actually allowing myself to experience reality, whatever it may be, in real time.

The truth is that I really do believe that taking things moment by moment, day by day is such a truer, fuller, best way to live. I know that if I did it, I would have to depend on Jesus more than I do currently. And that scares me. Currently, I live in these cycles where I depend on myself probably for about two weeks at a time; I can trick myself into being rather "independent" for two weeks at a time. But then something happens, and I have to acknowledge how completely dependent I am and have always been on God's merciful care. It usually involves a long night of tears, and then an amazing feeling of peace and rejuvenation in the morning. I'm not sure, but I imagine it's what really falling in love is like--contentment and rest and security even at the same moment of knowing how totally vulnerable I am. But then I get cocky; I enjoy the rest but imagine that my competency has earned it for me; and then as the evidence mounts that this cannot be so, the cycle begins again until I'm once again at the place of having to acknowledge how silly I have been to imagine, and try to live, as though I were self-sufficient. I don't think I even realized how often I do this until I began writing it out, but as I acknowledge it I have to repent of it, and as I repent I begin hope and pray that God can change it. It's totally counterintuitive to me to believe that rest could come from the most exhausting part of my life--dealing with emotions--but it seems to me more and more that I always end up having to view realities in this world through the lens of paradoxes. What I see, what I do, what I resort to in order to "function" is not the true reality; what I hear of and imagine, hope, ache to be true even though it makes no sense whatsoever at times, that is the real truth.

Still a dilemma though: as I seek to process all these emotions, do I blog about them? There's an obvious answer to this, which is, "Please not all of them!" Which I won't do--I have no desire to put my heart and soul out on the internet. But I started a blog originally (and this is embarassing but true) because I am about the most external processor I have ever met in my life, and I thought it might relieve the burden on some of my family and friends if I had another outlet to "externally process" that didn't force someone to sit across the table in the coffee shop and listen to me ramble for two hours. On the other hand, I have heard lots of people recently talk about how blogs are evidence of how self-centered we are; suddenly, my own thoughts and doubts and dreams and neuroses are important enough that I don't just record them in a journal, I publish them for other people to read and feed my own sense that the world really does revolve around me. This is troubling, and I don't feel strongly convicted either way, except I'm definitely convinced that this whole endeavor could be pretty self-centered. Or it could have tempting elements, but also be occasionally useful. We'll see. Maybe I'll call you and we'll talk for two hours in the coffee shop about it. ;)