If you are one of the few who checks this blog regularly, you can stop. I’m tired of always having a head full of things I want to unload and write about — and then remembering that I can’t write any of it here because I was an idiot and gave out the address when I first started the blog. If I write a big long thing about the darkest things I’m thinking, I get guilt trips from some people, and eye-rolls from others who think I’m overdramatic. If I get upset about something, I can’t come on here and write about it because whoever I’m upset with is likely to see it and get aggravated that I blogged about it.

So really, this blog serves no purpose. I still go through many days when I’m carrying my brother’s death around with me, and days when I feel a little more normal and not at as shaded by a giant dark cloud. But even on good days, it’s with me. That loss is with me every moment, every day, and there’s no sense in thinking I can write a dooce-like, insightful, serious yet humorous blog. Therefore, I only write periodically. Everytime I want to write about something deeply personal or dark, and realize I can’t, I get frustrated. Everytime I think of the blog and think, “Gosh, I really feel like writing… Hmm, what do I feel like writing about?” and realize that there is nothing I CAN write about, I get frustrated.

I’m not going to shut the blog down completely — yet — because maybe I’m just having a bad day and this will resolve itself later. But I’m going to stop thinking about it unless something leaps out at me to write about.