It’s been almost four months since I’ve really written anything. After seven years of blogging(yes, my blogging anniversary came and went last month without a mention from me), I’ve never been quiet for so long.
Even this morning, I actually sat down nearly three hours ago to write this post. I started this post exactly 12 times – but found other things to do…email, grocery lists, bills, laundry, paperwork, messaging friends on facebook, maybe crying a few times, talking to my mom on the phone. So then I would get back to this post and delete everything and start again.
This is not what I meant to write about. I’ve started posts about tweens and some troubles we are having. I’ve started posts about our move to the suburbs. I’ve started posts about buying Smashbox at Nordstroms. I’ve started posts about my cats. I’ve started posts about Easter and family. I’ve started posts about training and injuries. I’ve started posts about summer camp sign-ups. I’ve started posts about painting furniture. I’ve started posts about lice. I’ve started posts about books I’ve read. About going to Haiti again this Fall. I’ve started posts about Listen To Your Mother. I’ve started posts about being Pro-Choice and about politics. About morality vs. religion. Did I mention cats?
But instead I now sit here and write about writing. I know that I still need to write. I feel it deep and shallow inside of me when I don’t. A weird frustration that I cannot explain. Like if I don’t write soon, that I’ll just explode. Hitting publish on a post brings almost a sense of relief – both spiritually and physically that the words are out there to read and weave and I can move on to another thought.
Yet for nearly four months I cannot get the words down. They seem trite or meaningless. Already said or not important. Or maybe too personal and not to be shared.
And I now I’m teetering on the edge of unhappiness and what that brings – self-doubt and going to bed before I even tuck my kids in. And I know that I should be using my blog as my place to write and share and feel healthy again that my stories are worth something if even just to me. That’s enough. I need to stop over-thinking every word and every post for it’s virality and SEO and just go back and know that even if I can write 100 words and share 3 pictures – well that is still a story worth sharing.
I’m back. I think.
What stops you from writing?