A Mere Six Years Later

I want to write. At the moment I want to restart my blog. I have the urge to write and share more than I do on the socials. Instagram is not the right platform for what I think I want to do. That's for more about life updates and creativity. I want my blog to be something else. Musings or explorations. I brought it up in therapy yesterday. What I got out of that was I just need to do it. Regardless of any excuses I have. My therapist said to ask myself why I was so resistant. What is that all about? I may have just come up with part of the answer: lack of a sense of self. I've been in survival mode and improving life mode and it's been hard and stressful. But successful. I think. My family has also had some medical things going on (sinus infection: son, benign lump removal: cat). And my husband is miserable with his job and place of work.

With all that, I don't know what I like to do. This has happened before and it will happen again. Something is prodding me to write, though. Blog, work on my novel, something beyond just my morning writing practice. I have a couple ideas to explore but I'm scared or stuck or something and I can't bring myself to do it. And I don't know if I care that much. But I must, at least a little bit, if it's nagging at me.

In the past my blog has been about me wanting to do a thing and not being able to do the thing. I don't want it to be more of the same. And yet, here I am. I want to write but I cannot write so I write about that. I am scared to focus on a topic. I fear being judged, mocked, scoffed at, that it will suck and I'll feel shame because I think of myself as a writer but clearly I shouldn't because look at that. My ideas are boring and no one will care or want to read. All the insecurities.

But maybe I should write. For all those reasons. I've wanted to restart my blog for a long time, off and on over the years, but I couldn't think of what I wanted it to be. That I needed a purpose. Maybe the purpose is to write whatever I want because it's my blog. But maybe this time I push myself a little farther. Maybe I need to make myself a little uncomfortable and go into more details about my life and how I view things beyond "look at this cool thing I made and here's the emotional journey I went on while making it". That's what my Instagram is about.

I've given up the dream of pursuing a creative career or business. For now. It hasn't worked. I want to do whatever I want now. I want to write and I want to share. But I also want to have more substance. I want to have a voice that is mine. I want to express a sense of self. Myself. I can't control whether people read it or not or whether they like it or not. I need to write for me and make it engaging enough. That's the best I can do right now. That's what I can offer. You can choose to read or not. I can't keep you from scoffing. Move on, if you do. I'm not for you.