Guilty as Charged

The problem with writing your thoughts down on paper or computer, is someday, someone might read them. Or in the case of a blog, you either really want many people to read it or you at least, like myself, kinda want someone, at least one, to read it and relate. However, you are fully aware it is writing being made public on the Internet for anyone to see. It is the exact opposite of my sixth grade notebook writings that were carefully hidden under my mattress. The only audience of those twelve-year-old laments was supposed to be me. Except for the time my mom found it and she cried.

Now, dear reader, you will see what I have been charged with in my latest writing class. A veteran, published author of personal essays has suggested that perhaps my essays, "share the beginnings of real emotion...but stop short of real disclosure." Hmmm...well, maybe. She suggested, "Have I always been a self-sufficient person and therefore asking for help is hard?" Well, I haven't spent much time thinking about that until she asked...but, yes, guilty as charged. Getting feedback on a personal essay gets pretty personal awfully darn fast. I think, I feel, if I ask for help, then I am not succeeding. Or upon further thought, I am not perfect. Not perfect as in perfection, but my all is not good enough. And as a parent of a particularly challenging child on a daily basis, I almost always feel like my all isn't good enough. Now, isn't that the truth?
I wish I could ask my mom if all parents feel like "giving their all" isn't good enough on a lot of days. I know she felt it, the day she read in my notebook, I didn't like her.