I've been avoiding writing for months now. The longer I leave it - the more daunting it seems. Blogging and the thought of blogging, really has become so intimidating that I was avoiding anyone and anything that reminded me of it.
You see, I attempted blogging before - I only made a handful of posts, but the sense of relief I got when writing was unlike anything I had felt before - I loved it! Writing became almost like therapy. Every time I finished writing a post I felt like a weight had been lifted. Parts of my past and present that I had tried to shut out and avoid dealing with were spilling out through my writing and it felt good. Even if nobody read it - it didn't matter.
I'm someone who never talks about feelings, and has never been able to open up to anyone about anything. I had all these issues I didn't know how to deal with, people I didn't want to upset, and a past I was never able to revisit. So, each blog post, to me, became a step closer to breaking out from the emotional lock down I kept myself under.
I didn't feel as depressed as I used to be and writing lessened my need to be numb through alcohol every night. A good friend told me at the time to post on whatever helped me, and put my feelings first for a change and not to worry about anyone else.
It was the end of 2016 and I was looking forward to a new year. I was gonna' be selfish for a change, I was gonna work on me and let my voice, my thoughts, my pain be heard. Even if no one heard it, except me my feelings were valid and important and they deserved my attention. Awesome, right?
Wrong.
It wasn't awesome at all, at least not to some of the family members reading my blog.
The feedback I got from my family and friends was all positive and encouraging. Things like:
"I love your posts, you are such a closed book, I'm learning stuff about you I didn't know and it's great!"
The last in-depth post I remember making was one about my weight loss. I started the post thinking it would be me mostly talking about how much better I feel after losing weight and giving some tips. The finished product was quite the opposite. I wrote a piece that dealt with a lot of issues I had suppressed, some I didn't know I even had. I was scared to post it actually it was a part of me I wasn't sure I wanted to share, a side I was embarrassed about and ashamed of.
After a day or so of internal debate I decided I needed an honest opinion so I asked a friend to read it and tell me what they thought. They loved it, and encouraged me to post it - so I did.
I was blown away by some of the feedback from others. A few women I'd never really spoke to, but had on Facebook messaged me to tell me how much they could relate and thank me for being brave enough to share it. I had been so worried I'd look weak, and pathetic- being told the opposite was a massive relief.
A few days later I'd woke to messages from a very close family member. Messages like:
"STOP living in the past! Why do you always have to be an attention seeker? Why are you only talking about how you feel what about the rest of us? You are embarrassing us! Keep me off that blog! I think you are lying! I don't believe that happened!"
I was bummed, I had no idea that's how I was being perceived. It shook me, I wasn't attention seeking at all. Is that what I looked like? - an attention seeker? Was I making a fool of myself?
I was hurt too, hurt that the person who said all this thought I'd ever write a bad word about them. Someone I'd always tried to protect and look out for. Her feelings were more important than my own and I'd somehow managed to really piss her off. I sank back into myself, and couldn't find the motivation to write.
Just before all the arguing happened I'd been working on another piece - that I thought was decent. I was excited to finish it. I rarely felt like that about anything. I remember reading back over it a few days later hoping it would bring back the buzz I felt when I started it. No, I seen it differently than I had before. It seemed a silly post and I felt like I was coming across as selfish and looking for pity. I convinced myself it was something I didn't need to write about and left it at that. I eventually finished it months later but I didn't have the same excitement I used to get when I finished a piece.
It's the last thing I posted. I avoided blogs and blogging like crazy. I missed the relief that came from writing though. I told myself I would find something else that I could actually do that would help in a similar way.
For weeks now I've had idea after idea for blog subjects, but when I tried to get them into words I couldn't manage more than a paragraph or two. Then I become full of doubt and question myself.
I have been putting it off and making excuses for myself. Convincing myself "Iβm going to write tomorrow, I will just wait till then."
I sat down to write this at 4am this morning. It's a little before 5pm now. In that time, the content has changed around five times - no joke lol.
Seeing some posts on here the last few days added to the pressure, I've come across some amazing blogs and writers in such a short time.
Scrolling through blog idea topics on pintrest hoping something will jump out at me. Something people will like and something I want to post about.
This wasn't what I planned to write today, but I guess it's something I had to put into words so it would stop taking up so much headspace, and niggling away at me every time I try to write something.
Reminding myself why I liked writing before- when it seems so impossible to do now. I realized I was focusing too much on other people's opinion.
I enjoyed writing because it helped me overcome problems or voice my opinion, without worrying about what other people may think. I had settled on the idea of just never being able to write again - no matter how much I wanted to.
Whether I post this or not it had to be written. Ignoring it isnβt helping so maybe writing about it will.