I’ve written 46 posts since February. When I was pregnant, I’d write something and I’d share it. I might be a little hesitant, but I was more concerned with people knowing Brielle than I was with my reputation or image. But now I’m terrified.
I’m generally a very private person. And I don’t like sharing things on platforms that exist forever. I feel ridiculous. I mean, why would anyone care about me? My life isn’t remarkable. Why do my thoughts and opinions matter? Does anyone really care about what’s going on in my heart, mind, and life now that Brielle is gone?
In the past six months I’ve watched family and friends that said they loved me, walk out of my life. They used Brielle for notoriety and after Brielle served her purpose in their lives, they left. And David and I have been left alone, trying to pick up the pieces. Everyone’s gone.
Why would anyone else stay? Why would anyone care about me or David? Was our daughter just a fad to be used by others? Is that all I am? The mother of a fad? It breaks my heart and destroys my confidence.
I’m vulnerable, broken, and hurting. And I’m not sure how to crawl out of my heartache. I’m not sure how to be confident. I’m afraid that sharing my heartbreak and our struggles for the past six months will ruin the good Brielle’s life did accomplish.
My writing is dark, honest, depressing, and bitter. And it doesn’t make everyone look nice and pretty. It’s honest. And what I’ve learned in my life, especially in the past six months, is that a lot of people don’t really want honesty.
I’m at a crossroads. Do I quit the blog? Do I continue, but only post things that are optimistic (which violates my conscience)? Or do I show my vulnerable, broken side? I’m ashamed of this side of myself. I feel guilty for exposing it. I also feel trapped. And I feel like I violate my integrity if I shut my mouth. And I know, I’ll carry the burden and weight of this pain forever if I don’t open my mouth.
I know who I am. I know what I can live with. I just don’t know what I have the courage for.