To Write or Not to Write

Why would a person revive an old blog?  

Many reasons, actually.  Some sad, but not in this case.  Things are good here, six and a half years after diagnosis, though I’ll save a future post for how I probably just jinxed myself.  I’m convinced that’s how it works.

Well, anyway, the idea of blogging should seem crazy.  I hadn’t wanted anything to do with it for quite a while, but the thing I can’t let go…it feels really right.  It feels strangely familiar.

There’s a brand new notebook, an array of pens, and a slew of ideas all fighting to be first in line.  First to be the words I write after my self-imposed hiatus.

There’s a head full of topics I probably shouldn’t share publicly and strong hesitation as my pen hovers over paper.  But, then it comes, fast and furious, onto the page.  Like last time.  The time when I started blogging.  When so many thoughts, questions, and unbelievable experiences all came tumbling out.  I didn’t know that day in October 2010, if I could write about it.  If I would continue.  I had no idea what waited for me, if anything, in the vast void of the internet.  I just knew I had to try because writing was my way out of the black hole cancer had dropped me in.

My only way out was to scratch, sort through and pull apart every fear, every painful twinge and all those memories.  To write, was to accept it.  To share, was my salvation.  I would learn sharing was synonymous with dropping my load.  I would find an amazingly, supportive community of others like me.  Not exactly like me, since our stories are all different, but close enough.  We’ve all known the same terrifying words.

I kept the blog going longer than I could have imagined.  Along the way, as I unburdened myself, I learned more about the disease I thought I knew.  I made friends with cyber sisters I never met in person and when I lost some, grief made me feel as if I had.    

I wrote for more than two years, until I couldn’t write anymore.  Until I didn’t want to be reminded everyday of the one thing I wished I could forget.  I wanted to spend time with my family and live my life.  

I did and I am.  

In the past, I wrote why I chose to name the blog after my dog, Goliath.  Because like him, I had a sad tale to tell, a rough road to walk and he persevered, overcame adversity and lived a good, peaceful life.  Why couldn’t I?

Two years passed after Goliath died before my family and I felt ready to bring another German Shepherd into our lives.  Another handsome male, with beautiful, amber eyes.  We named him Krypto, after Superman’s boyhood dog.  The Hound of Steel.  Unlike Goliath, he never experienced the ugly side of life.  He’s only known the good.

Krypto, our Hound of Steel

Maybe it’s okay to restart my blog that way.  With good in mind, very little drama.  Like Krypto, a clean slate.  Excited just knowing there are places to go, sights to see, ideas to pursue.  Maybe it doesn’t always need to be bad or scary or sad, though it’s fine to write those things, too.

Very often, in the past couple of years, I’d come across something I felt compelled to write about and thought…if only I was blogging.  

So, I guess it’s time.  I’m not exactly sure yet the path this renewed blog will follow, but I’m thankful for anyone that wants to come along.  I’ve missed you.


If you’re a blogger, does your ability to write ever change with your mood or situation?  Would you give it up?

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