A real apology… for being fake.

That’s right, I’m here to apologize… for being inauthentic. Don’t worry, I haven’t lied or covered up any big secrets, I just sort of realized that some of the things I’ve been writing about lately have gotten away from the true mission of this blog. And I’m stopping the madness before it gets any further. Let me explain.

Over Valentine’s Day weekend, you may recall I was on a mission to venture out on my own. And I did it, and I felt really good about it. But in the days following, I really started to think about things, and a lot of the things on my mind were things I’d been pushing to the back for some time now – things I don’t want to think about, because they make me sad.

So, I started cleaning, because that’s what I do when I want to do anything but think. I took everything out of my pantry and scrubbed the shelves, and then replaced things neatly. I moved pieces of furniture to mop the floor beneath them. I even used the little brush attachment on the vacuum to comb through my faux fur rug to make sure all of the hairs were straight, and going the same direction.

Bacon-wrapped dates!

Bacon-wrapped dates!

I also cooked. I made too many bacon-wrapped dates, because, well, why not? And because the ritual of stuffing a date with goat cheese, and then wrapping it with bacon, before jamming a toothpick thru it was oddly satisfying. I also made a pizza, and drank wine, but not too much, because wine + thinking is not really my best idea.

And then, I sat down to write. I spend a decent chunk of my time on the weekends writing drafts for blog posts because I don’t have a lot of time to devote to it during the week. But when I sat down and looked at my editorial calendar, it was filled with posts that I didn’t even want to write. And if I didn’t want to write them, I knew no one was going to want to read them.

The more time I spend alone, the more introspective I get, and as a writer, this is good, but as someone who has struggled with depression, this can sometimes cause cloudiness in my brain.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts while I’m at work. I work in an open environment and I’ve discovered that any outside noise distracts me from tasks that need to be done. So, I’ve invested in multiple pairs of headphones (so I never forget or am destined to be lost without a pair) and spend my 9-6 with headphones on, listening to people (of my choosing) talk about news, politics, fashion, blogging and life.

One of the podcasts I really like is Leandra Medine’s, “Monocycle” and her related podcast, “Oh Boy”. On of the podcasts, she was interviewing fashion icon Stacy London and they were talking about how social media has changed us, and Leandra commented about how she’d recently written a blog called, “Is Instagram Making me a Sociopath?” …in the sense that she can be crying on the phone to her mom about how she is a failure, but in the same breath, post a smiling picture to Instagram promoting her fashion blog and captioning it about how great life is.

I have always hated how fake most people appear on Instagram, and other social media channels for that matter, but that’s another issue for another day.

Regardless, it got me thinking about the image I project online, particularly with this blog. In general, I think I do a good job of admitted my faults, and I’ve shared some pretty damn embarrassing things about myself here, over the years.

But I admit I’ve fallen prey to attempt to produce content that I hope people will want to read. And honestly, that’s not the point of this blog. The Bitter Lemon is meant to be home to my thoughts, opinions, hopes, dreams, goals, and perhaps a map on how to get through it all without appearing like a complete nut job.

And that’s about it. This blog isn’t my livelihood, I don’t have a boss or an editor, I don’t have interns or other writers. It’s just me. And sometimes you get the good, happy Holly, and sometimes you get to read about my complete fuck ups, and watch me attempt to pick myself up with some sort of grace, before I try again.

Yes, I want this is be a place you like to come to; a place where you leave with questions or answers or deep thoughts on life, or society. I want it to be fun and empowering, too.

Unfortunately, just like life, I don’t have some clear-cut user-guide to make that happen. All I have is what I know, and that is what I’m willing to offer you. I have to be true to myself, and in doing that, there’s a massive chance you might not like me, or this blog, and I’ve got to be okay with that.

I also can’t fly off the handle like a psycho, because I do have a professional job, and I’m not trying to get canned. But I am confident I can be honest here without coming completely unglued.

And like I said, I’m not covering up some giant secret that’s weighing on me. In general, I’m still suffering from some growing pains with my job, I’m still stretching my legs in my new home, and some days, I’m just trying to figure out who I am and what I’m ultimately trying to get out of this life before it’s too late – I feel a tremendous amount of pressure when it comes to this aspect of being.

The other side of all of this? To be 100 with you, I was really interested in this guy for a big part of last year and around the first part of this year, and per usual, it went to complete shit after we slept together.

I haven’t said much about it yet, for three reasons: 1., because he really hated me ever mentioning him in this blog, and 2., because I am still trying to wrap my brain around what the hell happened, and ok, 3., because I’m more upset over it than I want to admit and I don’t really want to think about it just yet for fear of a complete mental breakdown.

But I will explain more on that here once I can collect my thoughts into some sort of organized fashion, and/or, doing so without wanting to cry and/or punch a hole in my living room wall.

Whew. So there. I said it. And I’m sorry if you’ve come here in the past weeks or months and felt that it just wasn’t what it used to be. I’m getting back on track; back to being honest. My editorial calendar has completely changed, and I’m vowing to bring back the honest side of The Bitter Lemon, and I hope you’ll join me.

But if not, I’m happy our paths crossed at some point. So here’s to greener pastures. Lord knows I’ve got enough shit to keep it that way for quite awhile.

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Posted on February 22, 2016, in The Squeeze and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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