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Blogging With Consent

Sometimes, if Connor can keep himself on task at bedtime, I’ll let him play a game of Two Dots on my phone before we read a bedtime story. Last night was one of those nights.

As the app was launching up, he read aloud the random message that popped up about connecting your game to Facebook to sync your progress. He didn’t quite get the word “sync” right, but he got the idea, especially since he understands that people share pictures and videos and stories with one another on Facebook. When I explained to him that I didn’t really want to connect everything to Facebook, he asked why not.

“Well,” I explained, “I don’t need Facebook to know everything about me. I mean, I already have my own website, where I share things about my flowers and about you–”

He lit up, and immediately wanted to see.

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depression, writing 1 Comment

Blogging of a Personal Nature

I read an article recently on kottke.org that assured me that I am not, in fact, the last personal (i.e. non-topical) blogger out there. In reading some of the blogs he referenced, I realized that I haven’t been keeping up with regular, “real” updates. Sure, every month I post a Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day post, and I’ve been getting behind on my Cookbook of the Month posts, and I’ve completely stopped posting monthly weight updates (because what’s the use), and I have several somewhat time-sensitive posts in the queue — mostly about the vacation we took last month. But the old-school life update post has become kind of a rarity lately — which is a shame, since so many minor happenings will slip past undocumented if I’m not careful. I don’t really journal longhand unless I’m trying to work through something I can’t really post online, so if it’s not here, it’s probably not anywhere to be found. Except in my brain, and that’s kind of iffy the older I get.

So, here’s one topic I’ve been meaning to bring up again: depression.

Specifically, treatment via medication.

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