prioritizing

So, anyway, there is this thing called Wordle.  It creates this cloud thing using words that you choose to enter or it will harvest the most commonly used words from a web site.  Like this one.

I used it years ago to illustrate the tenor of the conversations on some of the medical sites I created for people.  It is cool, yes, but it also is very telling in what kinds of words we use when the purpose of the words is to be part of the process of whatever the hell any of us are doing on-line.

I was surprised to accidentally stumble across it today, and decided to enter this site's URL and see what would happen.

Lordy.  What a wake-up call.  It was so alarming to find what a whiney bitch I am that the only recourse was to put it here.  Make it public, relatively speaking.  Take some responsibility for how I am not moving forward as much as I would like.  Sure, this space is for unreservedly spewing, but I guess I thought that I was making some progress, or at least more than I actually have.

I recolored the most used word in red and then did the same for the words that I wish I had used more.  The more hopeful ones.  More productive.  More forward-moving.

Nowhere on there is hope or belief or trust.  I have looked and looked and love is not there.  However, lobster is and I have absolutely no idea where the heck that came from.  Not sure that I want to know, but I think it might have been when I was grousing about what the 'haves' have, as opposed to what the 'have-nots' like me do not have.  Probably some class-ist babbling.  Sour grapes.  Like that.

Bottom line is that it is what it is.  Simple as that.  Will having done this, finding this information have any effect on what I write?  Hell, no.  It might be part of my consciousness for a while, but I will soon be back to the same-old same-old.

Besides, this is the only place in my life where I can get rid of any of this.  My friends, even if I could afford to get together with them, are most likely sick of hearing the constant repetition of my crap.  I will not burden my daughter with any of this.  My siblings are out of the questions; I am the person to whom they come for help and to unburden themselves.  We never worked out how to do it otherwise.  I go to therapy once or twice a week and that helps, as well as a support group, but neither of them are the kind of safe places to share what I write here.  Even here is not safe enough, all anonymous as it is, to share the really bad stuff.  No one will ever hear or read any of that.

Anyway (one of the most used words, by the way), here it is.  An interesting way to bare one's soul.  I guess.

Click on the image to get a better view of the spew.

 Lordy.