This is probably the 50th (AT LEAST) blog I've tried to write in the last several months. I find I get these great ideas for blogs while I'm driving with Kenny crooning at me from the speakers. At full volume of course. Unfortunately writing or typing while driving is not something I'm talented at and I'm pretty sure there's a legality issue.
Try as I might to hang onto the ideas no sooner do I sit down in front of my computer and I've got... nothing. I start typing and the words that I'm able to painstakingly extract from my brain make little to no sense or sound like the ramblings of a five year old.
Write what you know. I read that advice somewhere. I believe it was in an old text book. But don't quote me on that. It was a long time ago and I've remembered, and tried to live by, that advice ever since.
So... what do I know? I know how to change a diaper. I could probably complete the task blindfolded. I know how to cook fairly well. The kids are all still alive. However, I doubt anyone wants to hear about the finer points of diaper changing and my cooking skills are certainly nothing to write about.
I could write about the silly, sometimes pathetic, things that I think about. But I'd like to avoid a stint on the psych ward. I could spill out all of my deepest fears and most secret dreams. But... I'm not that brave.
I could write about a loneliness, often so profound, that it leaves me with a physical ache. And that would be depressing. I don't need any help with that emotion. I could write about being so physically and mentally exhausted that I often have no idea what time of day it is. But you've heard that before...
I could write about fear. I could tell you that I don't think I have ever been this afraid in my entire life. At least not for this length of time. I can say with near certainty that I exist in a constant state of anxiety. Sometimes it's a nervousness that is just below the surface. I'm able to control it with self soothing techniques. Often without anyone being aware of what I'm doing. Sometimes it's more dominant and quite difficult to hide. I sweat. I get the shakes and I feel physically sick to my stomach. It's a feeling I do not like and one I fear. Which exasperates the anxiety and creates a never ending, vicious cycle.
Again... I am able to write about all of these things. And I'd likely bore everyone to tears. Which must sound presumptuous. "Bore everyone to tears", as if I'm some blogging Goddess that everyone reads regularly and waits with baited breath for each new post. Ha! I'm honestly not that full of myself. I likely get more out of my blogging than anyone else does. And that's really all that matters. If I keep it all in I run the risk of self destructing.
Many of our fears are tissue-paper-thin, and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them. ~Brendan Francis
