I Speak Because I Can

I've been reading blogs for a long time now but I've never written one myself, not even a guest post. Most, if not all of you, know me as Moz in the comment sections of your own blogs, or maybe from twitter. 

The above sentence clearly belies the assumption that there actually are people reading this first post. Yes, I'm that presumptuous. Maybe it's the history student in me that believes it's better to assume people will notice this than not. Then again, the history student in me also knows that many texts disappear without a trace for generations and that some stories are never found again, as hard as people might look. And I'm not sure that anyone will be looking terribly hard to find out who I am, even if I have been commenting on their blog for years. 

But anyway! The point is that the overwhelming majority of you know me only by my username, or possibly maybe from my generic updates in 140 characters or less. 

I've mostly held off from starting a blog because I didn't feel I had anything to say that was especially original or meaningful. It was also because for a long time I was so miserable that writing a regularly updated blog would have been a bad thing for everyone concerned, not least because I would have had tangible evidence of some of the worst times of my life. (And there's that historian talking again. I'm all about the documentation.)

There are two reasons that I now feel differently, at least enough to carefully dip my toes into the blogging deep end before jumping in wholeheartedly and embracing the cold. Firstly, my life is a lot better than it was, and that is something I intend to spend some time talking about. I suffer from a chronic illness that consumed a considerably large part of my life so far and I couldn't really talk about my life with any honesty if I was to pretend I don't have it. Oh, that I wish that I didn't.

Secondly, I am embarking upon a journey about which I feel compelled to write. I have started research for my 20 000 word thesis (in history, surprise, surprise) which is due sometime in the second week of October 2012. I believe this gives me a frame of reference within which to write for the next 10 months, although rest assured I don't just want to bitch about how stressful my Honours year is. My year will include much, much more than the research for my major project and the two seminar classes I am taking between March and late June next year. 

You see, this next year isn't just about my writing a thesis in history. I am trying to re-write my own history. I am tired of being that girl with the chronic illness, that girl who has had bad things happen to her. I see this next year as a chance to become the woman I hope to be, to try and move on from the horrors that have held me hostage for so long. Some of these horrors are things I will talk about, some of them I won't, but I am hoping that by talking about them a little bit I might make at least one of you feel a little less alone, a little less helpless. And yes, maybe I can start feeling a little less of those things too. 

Here are some things to expect from my blog:

*Some bad language. I tend to get a bit mouthy when I am especially tired, angry or incredulous. So be prepared for that sometimes as I often feel all three of those things. Cursing really does help. You should try it.

*Not a huge number of pictures, especially personal ones. I don't actually own a digital camera and while I do shoot film, I don't scan the results. I really am hopeless with technology, a Luddite from way back - this is the girl who was told to stop handing in handwritten assignments lest her teachers give her zero. I will try and get better at this over time. 

*Lots of talk about music, books, film and TV that I love. These things kept me alive for a long time and sometimes they are all I have. Music especially is my first love and I sing at weddings to supplement my meagre income from other sources so there'll be a bit of that along the way. 

*Really bad jokes. No, I mean it. Lame jokes are a particular specialty of mine. I am extra partial to puns. You have been warned.

*A certain level of anonymity. Although this blog is part of an effort to be more honest, there are people I will talk about who actually exist and who don't know about this blog. So it is less about protecting my own dignity and more about protecting theirs. But there's nothing I will write here that I wouldn't say to anyone's face. And that's the truth and a promise. My idea of gossip is saying lovely things about people I care about, so I don't think I'll get into trouble here. We'll see if this is just naivety.

So that's me, slinking quietly into the blogosphere. There's a lot of explaining to come, starting with the name of the blog which has a good story. Well, I think it's a good story so I'll be telling it to you, probably tomorrow. It will probably become apparent that I don't generally slink nor am I, as a rule, quiet, so cherish the subtlety while it lasts. 

Speak to you soon,

Moz.

P.S. - How many of you are just here to find out what 'Moz' stands for?

P.P.S. - I swear I wrote this entry about moving on before seeing this post on A Practical Wedding. But it's scary how applicable Jamaica's story is to my starting this blog and life chapter. Which, by the way, is not some early New Year's resolution. 

P.P.P.S. - The song from which this post derives its title is exquisite - my favourite word, for the record. Please see here, for a live recording.