OK to Blog?

Using the term "blog" as a verb here . . .

So when is it okay to blog about your life when it involves someone else? That's the question on my mind at the moment. There seems to be a line that must be invisible, because I swear I can't see it sometimes.

For example, I'm sure it's okay to blog about my grandmother, if she falls down and breaks her wrist, as she actually did last week. It's one of those things that happens, maybe that person is upset but not embarrassed about it, and it is an event or happening that is on my mind. I worry about her, worry how her surgery went, how she'll heal, how she's handling the anxiety afterward. It doesn't seem to be something in the "gray" area, although I'm sure if I really thought about it, there would be some reasons not to mention it.

What if I'm worried about someone? What if those worries keep me up at night, make me feel depressed and helpless, but involve things that other person may not want to make public? Even if I don't say who it is I'm worried about, that person might feel uncomfortable or even feel betrayed that I discussed them on the internet. I'm guessing that situation is just one I have to bear, since that really isn't fair to someone to discuss their personal business, even if it's an all-consuming anxiety-fest for me.

But here's what I see is a gray area I'm not to clear about. What if, for example, I've done something that affects someone else, but the other person might be embarrassed? What if they've done something to me, but wouldn't want it discussed? What if something someone else does affects my own life, but is really their own business? When are those topics mine to discuss, or off-limits?

I can use the example of my son. I know this is a motherhood blog, in part, and there will be times when I blog about him. But I know I have to protect his privacy as well as his safety, as a parent, and to think about his future. My own mother never had to worry about the details of my life floating about in cyberspace to come back and haunt me in my adulthood. But this is a new century and a new era of technology and communication. How can I bond a public life with a private one? How am I supposed to know when it's acceptable to discuss potty training, for example, a subject that might help other moms out there who might be reading this, and when it's really something I ought to keep to myself? Would my son want me to write about this? Probably not. Should I? Could I? Would I? I don't know. If it might help someone else, maybe it should be all right. But am I wrong?

Of course, my therapist has a way of putting things that simplifies my life to a nutshell at times. Bookended by numerous "qualifying" statements, he said, "You tend to think too much." I think he's right, no pun intended! Then I can drive myself crazy trying to figure out when it's okay to think to much, and when it's not . . .

R