I thought I'd better make it official. I won't be posting on Poppy Cottage Diaries anymore. Over the last 18 months, my regular postings have whittled down to a dribble and then, no postings at all, since June. Kind messages and quiet conversations from my readers probe gently if I'm okay, 'We haven't heard from you in a while', they say, 'I don't mean to pry'. Well lads and lassies, I'm better than okay. I'm doing mighty fine.
Writing this blog and elsewhere has seen me through some difficult years, a diagnosis with M.S. in 2011, the death of my father in 2015 and a marriage break-up along the way. Surprisingly maybe, I found it easy to write about these things, the words almost spilled out of me, like a big gush of uncontrollable tears. The grief that I experienced when me father died was unexpected and I can say now on reflection, that writing about it helped with the healing. He has been in my thoughts during the recent bad weather. As a child, I was afraid when he went down the farmyard on a windy night, afraid that a creaky sheet of galvanised metal would rip off a roof and crack his head in two, a fear that I can still feel.
If there was anything I might like to unwrite, or at least, add a disclaimer to, it was my writing about M.S. Although my experiences at the time were very real, they have passed and I am, thankfully, as healthy as can be. The diagnosis forced me to take charge of other aspects of my life that were making me very unwell. Because I was very public about it, it might be something that I am associated with now, but can we shelve that please? This chick ain't sick (touching wood and all that).
Writing about my children, family and my childhood memories was fun, stories that flowed easily. And I could keep writing those. But do you know what? There's more important stories in me that I need to find another way to write. A scab that needs picking. I have to find the mechanism to do it. I'll be experimenting with a new blog soon, under a new online persona. Send me a message if you would like to find it.
Before I go, you may have read about my online dating escapades here, and in The Irish Examiner. (Just thought that I'd throw in the bit about the national newspaper). And sure aren't you dying to know what happened next?
There's a long version of the story for another day, but suffice to say that I met someone last year at a family wedding. Offline and out of the blue. Someone who has been around me my whole life, albeit from across the Irish Sea, someone who I thought had no interest in little old me. But there he was chatting and laughing and asking me about my blog. 'I hear you have been writing', he said.
A thousand thank yous for reading peeps x
