breaking free - not

weight: 117 (good - even when I ate a couple cupcakes)
treadmill: yes, being good this week, 30 minutes everyday in the morning.
creativity goal: gotta decorate a cake for a Relief Society Activity

Observations:
Nick wrote a comment about wanting to vent and speak his mind, but he worried about offending people. I responded to him that I too would like to be able to do that. I've considered starting a blog, but keeping my identity secret - so I could say some things on my mind that I am not sure I want everyone on my facebook or myspace friends lists to know about. What is the point of venting if you are not listened to. A hidden identity reminds me of that proverbial tree that falls deep in the forest. Who knows or cares?
I know I care to hear about other people's issues. I care deeply about the concerns and worries of my children. Even when I am the issue that is bothering them (I try to reign myself in)
I think knowing about the real person inside - the pain, the insecurities, the "issues", helps us to really know each other well.
But a blog is a very impersonal environment.
I'm reminded of PostSecrets where people send in their secrets on a post card, which is then posted on a website for all the world to read. Annonymous sharing of deepest feelings.

Secrets - some are not really any big deal to others, so why do we hord them and hide them and let them fester in us?
Is keeping a public happy face necessary for the smooth functioning of society?
I'm not talking about the constant whining - that is annoying and probably bad for mental health. Where can one go to share without being judged or "counseled" - sometimes I don't want it fixed, I just want others to understand what I'm dealing with.

Sometimes I need a hug. I don't get hugs - that is one of my secrets. The cat gets cuddled more than I do. Dr. Temple Grandin, an autistic person, created a hug machine for herself because she realized the value of deep tissue pressure to help calm and sooth the muscles and nerves. Being autistic, she is hyper sensitive to touch - but was able to get the therapy she realized she needed via the squeeze machine.
I have a pillow I hug at night, and that helps. Once, years ago, during a deep depression period of time, I hugged a large stuff toy. I was amazed at how calming and soothing that felt. It really made a big difference to wrap my arms around it and feel the soft pressure on my upper torso and face. I remember sharing the sensation at a weight watcher's meeting. The gal who was the leader suggested I might have trouble loosing weight if I have this lack of emotional support.
Once, a couple years ago, a young man from the singles ward that I have worked with in the past, took my hand - and instead of shaking it, as is our custom, lifted it up and kissed the back of it. I was overwhelmed with intense emotions. It felt so good! I was feeling like a 50 year old fool, swooning over a young man. That made me realize how intensely empty my emotional well was. The next time I met that young man, I had to make a point of avoiding getting too close. I know that confused him because he was always friendly -- one of those taught to hug friends. I so wanted a hug, but didn't dare trust my emotions.
My oldest son has been come a goodbye hugger - very unusual for him compared to his youth, but a nice development. I rarely get to see him.
My second son has always been a hugger of sorts - but I see him even less.
No one else here shows affection. If I try to initiate a hug, they tolerate it (if I can catch them).
The cat will want to cuddle - meaning I'm allowed to pet and rub her. But she doesn't want me to pick her up at all.
So I am not hugged, one painful secret - part of my secret picture.

Report - I felt good about the cake I decorated for our Relief Society birthday. It came out nice. Only one slice was taken though, so I got to bring it home. I put raspberries in the center filling (chocolate icing), yum - I love raspberries in chocolate. Though I think I wasted my time fussing over making the cake and worrying about getting it right. The other cakes were either store bought or in a sheet pan. I could have saved a lot of effort.