change.

When I decided to take a break from the blog this week I had neglected to think about the cathartic aspect of writing and how it can be a soothing activity that takes your mind off, well, life. As of late my family has been grappling with the declining mental health of a family member and the aftermath of each storm it has involved. As my home life entered into a surreal "this can't be happening to me" melodrama my frothy and seemingly insouciant blog seemed irreverent in tone and irrelevant in the whole scheme of things. I felt guilty and feckless typing about my sunday outfits and favorite beauty products when things at home had been so difficult. I started to wonder if friends and acquaintances would read the blog and think nothing was wrong when actually I've never dealt with anything so serious in my life. My dad has taken time off of work to come deal with the situation and I worried whether my blog could reflect badly on him. I felt like it was necessary to take a little respite out of respect and I have to say sometimes my sense of respect and guilt gets mixed up and I do unnecessarily self-sacrificial things, not that not blogging was sacrificial by any means but in the sense that I felt guilt about "living my life". My dad has been encouraging all of us to go on with our own lives. He's right and it doesn't mean I love my grandmother less because I am pursuing my dreams and moving forward but sometimes it feels like it does.