Am I overdoing it through my blog?

Before reading, please remember I blog as a human with emotion. Like anyone else, I have moments of ups and downs,happiness and frustration. I am a mere mortal.
I must I am not a mainstream blogger who gets several thousand of visitors per day. I don't earn 5 figure payment through blogging as some bloggers do. I never attended any function organized by Nuffnang. The contents of my writings aren't niche enough to attract readers. I started blogging since 2007-2008, and since then, I've been pouring my heart out, express my frustrations, angers, happiness, all that happened at home through my blog.
I was warned by my family regarding the contents of my blog. They claimed some "issues" aren't meant for public to know.
Then, what? Am I supposed to keep it suppressed within me. There are times, moments of disunity within the family, which affected me, making me feel like a ticking time bomb, hopelessly entangled within the disturbing thoughts, totally emotionally drained and mentally consumed with sadness, anger, frustration. There are times I simply need an escape, there are moments where I try to find any solution, at any cause. My intentions are purely to save the family from driven apart, but instead, I was often blamed for all the misunderstandings and conflicts within the family. I knew then, no one would listen to my thoughts, and rationale for my actions and the things that I said. The moment I gently and carefully expressed my ideas,opinion, and feelings, I was immediately told to mind my own business, to shut my gap, or even threatened to move out from the house. What did I do wrong? Doesn't my opinion matters anymore. That reflects my position within the family. I knew where I stand. I remember doing stupid things like tried smoking(which I hated the smell and gave me throat discomfort)and immediately threw the entire box away the moment I took the first puff. It doesn't work for me. I tried alcohol, which resulted in a severe migraine. So,smoking and drinking is out of the question. At 3am, I just drove all the way to Genting, parked in 1st World Hotel parking, and cried bitterly. I questioned life. I questioned its purpose.
I started writing poems, one which stated," When I thought of shortening my life, when i took the knife, all i see was Isabelle's eyes"...
It struck me in a sudden that I am actually important to my wife and children. I am important to a lot of people despite the family turmoil.
I can't afford to fail in life, for the sake of my wife, and three heavenly blessed children, they need a good father figure to grow up healthily. It then gave me a sense of importance, and a new lease of purpose in life. It was like God tested me, saw that I was at my breaking point, then revealed to me the purpose of my existence. It was beautiful since then. Simply beautiful.
Despite the shortcomings, which I believe everybody has, I begin to smile again. Those few minutes whenever I got down from my car after a long day's work, while walking to the house was the golden minutes of my day. That's when I see my three children excitingly greets me. It felt heavenly having them hugging you and repeatedly calling you "daddy!"
I am important.
Though there are a few post which I had to take out because I "revealed" too much, I obligingly comply.
I had to share, not with the world, but simply by writing it I find it rather therapeutic. It's a form of self expression, and not feeling sorry for myself. There are millions who are really ill fated. A little misunderstanding is simply a lousy excuse for breaking of family ties. It takes time to heal, and time does heal.... it heals everything.
Ever since I openly expressed to my parents my sincerity in wanting the family to be reunited, they begin to see from my perspective. No one is perfect. Whenever I get shouted at, I will remind myself its just temporary.
They have brought me up in such a loving environment, and I honestly don't believe the harsh words about disowning me. Well, since young, I've always been the one who drives my parents up the wall with my mischievous ways. Not naughty, but I was always curious about things, and I've experimented to find out why this happens, why that happens? Well, it's almost routine I got caned, it became a norm for me. I must have been extraordinarily good if I wasn't caned for the day. I secretly poured the milk that i dreaded drinking, played with my dad's rifle(he doesn't know it until today), drove my dad's Land Rover and crashed it, broke 4 dozen of eggs after watching some "bomoh" performing traditional healing using eggs, vandalized the entire banana trees, and locked my sister in the room simply because we were fighting over TV channel to watch.(They were showing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and Bold and the beautiful at the same time in different channel. What to expect? Initially, i always panicked whenever my mum approaches me with the cane, as I got older, I learned to "block" my mother's whipping, and eventually, I had no other choice, but to hide the cane.
Somehow what perplexed me was even when I hid or threw away the cane, my mum would have a spare one. It's like there are three upstairs, and 2 downstairs. And my mother knew me well. She hid the cane too!!!
Thinking back, all they wanted was for me to grow up well behaved. Hey, I am a happy man now.
I simply am.