A Farewell to Facebook

If you are a Facebook friend who follows my blog, you know that today is the last day I will post my blog links to Facebook, and you may be wondering why.  Lately, I have received a few panicked messages about how someone does not want me to stop writing the blog.  I am extremely flattered that everyone cares so much about these posts, and let me assure you that I am not stopping the blog.   I will continue to write and post as usual.  I need to continue to write for my own personal well-being.  I am just not going to link the post to my Facebook page.  Allow me to explain by first posting two pictures:                        

This is a koala

This is a newborn koala

At the very beginning of my journey, I was like the newborn koala.   Small, helpless, confused, and blind.   I didn't know what to do.  I didn't know how to handle my emotions.  I was searching for support and nourishment.   Facebook was like the mother koala.  I crawled into the safe, warm pouch and was comforted.   My friends rallied behind me.  They sent me messages of love.  They commented on my posts with condolences and words of support.  I felt safe and warm in an unknown and dangerous world.  I could not have survived without my circle of friends.   In the pouch, I was nurtured.  I was given the support, the sympathy, and the time I needed to grow stronger.  But now,  I have grown my first coat of fur.  My eyes can focus and see.   I am ready to leave the pouch and try this on my own.  

I am still grieving, but I am no longer helpless.  I have found my outlet (which is this blog), and I no longer need to turn to Facebook to be nurtured.  In fact,   I do not need to be nurtured anymore at all.  Although I am not healed, I know the direction I need to travel and the road I must walk down.  I will still stumble and fall.  My heart still breaks.  My soul is still heavy.   My journey is not over, and I have come to realize that it never really will be.  

I will continue to blog.   I will continue to share my journey with anyone who cares to join me.   But, I will not continue to post to Facebook.   Facebook has become a symptom of my sorrow, and that is not what I want it to be. It is time for my blog to separate itself from Facebook and from me to separate Facebook from my blog.  Facebook will now return to it's pre-tragedy state.  It will be social, not sorrowful.  I just can't continue to have every moment of my life  filled with loss.  I need a safe zone.  I need to be able to log on to Facebook and see what my friends are doing without being bombarded by blog links,  comments on blog links, likes on blog links, likes on comments on blog links, likes and comments on Kenley photos.   I need Facebook to be free of sympathetic vibes.  While I know I chose to make my pain public, it's enough now.  

Every once in a while, I may post a picture that reminded me of Kenley. I might, perhaps, post a link of a blog post I am particularly proud of - or an update of Kenley Around the World, but that's about it as far as my grieving goes.  This blog is where I will pour my soul, where I will open my heart, and clear my mind.   Facebook is where I will post pictures of the lemon bars I baked.   (And I did bake them yesterday!)

Please, continue to read as usual if you so desire. Comments may be made right below each blog post, if you'd like to do so. I read and appreciate every comment made on my blog. (I do respectfully request the sympathy be kept to a minimum.  I know everyone is hurting for me, and while I so very much appreciate it, I do not need to be reminded of it on a daily basis.)    I will keep writing.  I will keep posting.  This journey is far from over, and I still have a long way to go.   Thank you for coming with me.