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All that really matters.

There are only two things that really matter to me right now.  1. Making sure that my partner and children know that I love them, and  2. Te...


Me again

Yes, it's me- Her- again.
This blogging thing is not my thing, clearly.  But NOT writing is not an option any more.
So here I am.  Her, I am.  Me.  Blogging.... well talking.  To myself.
Not sure if anybody is listening.  Or if I (she) have (has) anything to say....
but imma try.  Imma really try for once.

It's been intimated that when one gives advice, one ought really TAKE said advice and practice what one preaches.  Lesson learned- I'm not going to preach any more.
Writing is actually what has been assigned to Her.  Since she was a very little girl, She has been told to write.  Problem is, She is afraid of doing it wrong.
She is afraid it wont be Good Enough.  (For what, do not ask.)
She is afraid it will be Too Good.  (again, don't even ask....)

Please do not comment with diagnoses of mental illness, explanations, or suggestions to integrate she, her, me, I or any of our friends.  I know what needs doing.  I know what diagnosis codes apply here.  I am not writing for your attention, approval, acceptance, help, or criticism.  I am writing for me.  And for my friends.

I have a few friends.  Actually, I have a lot of friends.  I have so many wonderful friends who think so much more of me than I think of myself- they are partially the ones I'm writing for.  (and then there's her... I write for Her too.)  So if anyone wants to read a convoluted story of a girl talking to herself and to her friends- read on.  I'm talking.  writing.
Somehow in the typing I'm hoping to get to know myself a little better.  I'm trying to figure out who I really am when nobody is looking/judging.  Funny that I'd do that out here in the open, isn't it?

Sometimes I scare myself.  So sometimes it's easier to remind her that it's just me... again.

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