For those of you who have been following along with me, you may have noticed that I had taken a break from posting. And in all fairness, I took a break from a lot of things, and it was needed. I needed to stop. Stop doing the things that were good for me, stop doing the things that were bad for me and everything in between. I had spent too much time, and for too long, just existing. Going through the motions of the day to day without evaluating or assessing where I was and the things that were happening in my life. I was lost and didn’t even know it.
So, I worked on finding myself. I split up with my husband. I sold a house and moved to a new place. I started a pole dancing class. I went on dates for the first time in 15 years. I got a new tattoo. I spent time by myself. I embraced the friends and family I had surrounding me and looked for the parts of myself that I had forgotten about. I grieved. I cried. I yelled. I danced. I drank. I laughed. And most important of all, I started to feel a little less lost. Felt that I had started to build a map for who I was and the direction in which I was heading.
But you know what I did not do? Write. And during all of this, one of the main questions people asked me were why not?
Well, for starters, I stopped writing because I tend to stop doing the things that tend to be helpful for me. Writing is one of those things. Writing is a way for me to move through my emotions, think about things differently and process my shit. And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to take the time to write about how I was feeling because I didn’t know what I was feeling. In hindsight, writing during this exploration would probably have been helpful. Would have allowed me to feel some of my feels, but I was not ready to do that yet.
Next, I stopped writing because it was hard. It was hard to maintain a schedule that gave me the space to sit down and take time for writing. I was having too much fun. I was out socializing with friends or exploring new hobbies and interests. I didn’t want to sit down in a room somewhere in the middle of a beautiful day and slog through my head and my heart to put it down on paper. Write about the turmoil I was feeling or the thoughts that were running through my head late at night. I could have written about the good things, the fun things I was doing, while outside even, but in that moment, I never considered that.
Next, I found the writing that I was doing was so negative. Before I decided to stop I was so angry, downtrodden and just plain old tired. When I would write, I would find myself feeling more annoyed and frustrated than relieved. I would read over my blog posts and feel like my readers would see the shift. They would see my unhappiness and I wasn’t ready to show that yet. People saw it, of course they did, but I didn’t think they did.
And then I stopped because I got up in my head. I thought my writing was not important. That there was no point. That I was not skilled in it and other people would judge me. That even though I have been able to get some followers on my blog, they were out of a sense of pity rather than wanting to read what I had to write. And I know that was all bullshit. I know that now. I know that it was my anxiety and low self-esteem talking. I know now that even if no one reads what I write, I still can write for me. What’s the point of a journal if that’s not the case?
So I stopped writing. I took time. and then I came around. Came around to the idea that writing is important for me. Regardless of whether someone reads it. Being a writer is part of who I am, so why would I not include it in the road map for myself? Writing is part of my healing. Writing is therapy for me. Writing fills my soul up when it feels empty. And writing makes me feel proud.
So, I am back. Back to journaling. Back to writing. Back to doing some of the things that are good for me. Understanding that sometimes I won’t feel like writing, or it will be negative. Understanding that I can do it inside, outside or wherever works for me. And understanding that there are people, people who have told me, that my writing helps them. I had a lot of reasons to justify why I stopped writing, but I have so much more to justify why I should come back. And so, if you are still here, I am back.
“Sometimes we must lose ourselves to find ourselves.”
– Sonny Long