As bloggers, we know that there is a certain boundary that we all have to put up. We don't share every facet of our lives on our blogs because that would be ridiculous and dangerous. Instead, we create a sort of half-drawn image of who we are and what we do, and it works for the medium. But it would be silly to think that what you see on the blog is the whole of me.
But this guarded image isn't something that is reserved solely for the blog world. How much of other peoples' lives do we really know? The truth is we can't ever fully know anyone else. I can think of so many instances where a friend or relative has revealed something to me after the fact and I was shocked. (Of course, part of this could always be traced back to my general lack of observation skills, but I digress.) It's hard to know what someone else goes home to, struggles with, endures. I know this from my own struggle with depression. No one but those closest to me had any idea what was going on with me, and I'm not sure how honest I was with them because I had a lot of trouble putting words with my feelings. I was lucky that circumstances in my life at the time triggered my fight instinct. It very well could have gone the other way.
I think about this subject often, usually because of my students. I often wonder what kind of situations they go home to. Through ten years of teaching, there have been many times when I wished that I could just take some of them into my own home. My heart breaks just thinking about it. I know that this is heavier talk than we usually have around here, but it's just what's been on my mind tonight. If you are reading this in a home where you have electricity, heat, clean clothes in the closet, and people you love who love you back around you, thank God for those blessings. And when you are done, say a prayer for those that don't. Because they are certainly out there, whether we know it or not.