Last week and part of this week were pretty much a creative waste. I wasn’t able to write anything because my mind was consumed with worry about things I truly have no control over. While procrastination and worry are nothing new in my world, I was struck by a distinct contrast between the times I do create against the times I don’t.
When I was posting consistently I felt happy and free, empowered, somehow beautiful, feisty and unique. This last week I’ve been quiet and agitated, fearful, short-tempered, eating Advil like candy, and obsessed with aging – just an all around joy to live with.
How can I swing from one extreme to the next so easily? Please don’t say it’s because I’m a woman. Please, just don’t. No, it’s because writing is me and when I don’t write some deep part of me is starved.
I needed to investigate this a bit more so I wrote this list.
Why do I write?
* Because I feel the most comfortable in my skin when I’m writing.
*Because writing is the only thing besides falling in love with my husband that feels like breathing.
*Because a lot has happened to me that I don’t understand and writing gives me a room I can sort it all out in.
*Because there are dear friends and vicious enemies living inside me who need to become a reality each speaking their own voice.
*Because I get bored if there is no puzzle to solve and storytelling provides the ultimate puzzle.
I’ve also been worrying about not posting a lot and if my content is relevant to anyone. I greatly enjoy getting Likes and Follows (thank you so much!) But is that the purpose of what I’m doing here? So I had to ask myself who this blog is truly for.
It is for that lonely girl I used to be who believed she was useless and stupid with nothing of any importance to say. It is to give her the voice she wasn’t ever allowed use.
Thank you for walking with me on this journey of mine! I’m glad you’re here.