Empty

A long time ago in what feels like a galaxy far, far away, I had my first child. I had the brilliant idea of writing him letters throughout his life (on birthdays and other momentous occasions) and keeping them in some sort of journal for him to read later in life. I loved this idea -- and yet, I never did it.

This idea that I still love and have never implemented pops in my head off and on and I often want to write letters about random things -- not just on special occasions. Usually it's at a time when I cannot write -- like when I'm driving or at work. Sometimes I get revved up by the idea and excited to try again for all three of my children. Other times it taunts me. I think of all the missed opportunities to share feelings and thoughts with my children. Years and years of missed opportunities. (Story of my life...) And still, I have not done it.

I often wonder what made me quit blogging and scrapbooking. Things that I loved -- things that recorded our lives that are flying by. I have told myself countless times it's because I've become lazy. But truth be told -- I think I've just become empty. Not completely -- but pretty darn close.

There is no nice way to say it -- Empty sucks.

Once you reach empty, it's so darn hard to recharge or even have the courage and strength or will to try.

Here's another reason I think I quit blogging. Sometimes I want to post something incredibly truthful about what is happening in my life and how it feels, but fear keeps me from doing it. Fear of the off chance that the wrong person will read it and it will just cause problems. So it stays bottled up inside filling my "empty" with a big ball of anguish. And I carry that ball of anguish around with me pretty much all the time.

Today I feel like I will write my first letter to my children. Maybe if I get the ball rolling it will eventually become a habit and maybe the sharing of my feelings will help fill up my tank again so I'm not running on empty all of the time.

Maybe.