Originally the title of this thing was going to be “On Writing.”
… versus, “Off writing.”
Every famous writer writes a book or an essay or a blog called “On Writing,” don’t they?
I have been wanting to work on my blog something fierce for a couple of weeks now, but here is why I haven’t. This is the alternate version of the song, “Home On The Range,” where always is heard a discouraging word:
I’m too busy.
I’m too depressed.
So and so might read it.
Nobody will read it.
I don’t have enough to say.
I have too much to say.
It’s too controversial.
It’s not unique or important.
Who cares anyway? Why bother?
I don’t have time.
But it’s more than all that. Often, I think what I write could dishonor God, to be that honest, to share the process before I “arrive.” How do I get from point A (distress) to point B (at peace) and honor God at the same time?
But even that is a poor excuse for not writing. Even in the Bible folks were not perfect at the time they wrote, and yet God published their “blogs.” God shared their process – not just the end result.
On top of that, I am one who really needs privacy when she writes. My 27 year old is staying with me at the moment, and I’m not comfortable writing while he’s here or due back home. I definitely do not do well with interruptions.
Not to mention, he’s often on the computer when he IS home. You may be able to have two people play on a piano at one time, but that’s never worked on a computer.
I also have to be in the mood. And, conditions have to be right. I mean, REALLY right.
(The caps are because I’m too lazy to format; just consider them italics).
But, for the most part, I have not written because I have censored myself.
I’m REALLY afraid of the waves I could make.
And that’s stupid. Because the reason I started the blog in the first place is that there is that part of me that just wants to SCREAM because she has been stifled so much. As I said in the first blog (did I say this in the first blog?) I am a Christian with mental illness. I can’t talk to my Pastor about my thought processes in regard to mental health issues in any detail. And I can’t talk to my counselor about my thought processes regarding spiritual issues in any detail. There is no bridge in the middle where I can really be myself and talk about EVERYthing.
Except with my dear dear friends. There are a very few to whom I can say anything, but they are there and I am soooo grateful for them.
But regardless of the fact that I can truly be real with them – I hesitate to tell ANY of them that I’m suicidal, until a) it passes, or b) it is too big to deny anymore.
Then there is the weirdness factor. If they REALLY knew how I think… no no. I’d best polish it up first.
They are always there for me when I finally decide to out myself, but I just don’t like making them WORRY. I can say I’m suicidal, or thinking this or that, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it. But the thoughts do still occur.
And, ironically enough, the thoughts occur most often when I don’t say what’s going on. So, if I am suicidal or craving something I shouldn’t, I won’t say I’m suicidal or craving something I shouldn’t, which makes me feel suicidal and crave something I shouldn’t.
So – in conclusion – is this really about writing?
Looking back, it’s more about censorship.
When I first started this blog, I was going to do it anonymously. That’s how much I wanted to be able to “say anything.” (A movie title I believe). But I felt that I was cheating myself by not being honest about who I really am.
So here I am, really me, but awfully quiet about it … Lord help me to be a little less afraid of everything …