Posted in Blogging, family, humor, inner peace, kids, Learning, Life, love, People, random, writing

Why Writing Rules.

 

i-love-to-write

I don’t feel good when I go too long without writing something. I realized that this morning, as I was stumbling over my various pets, trying to feed them all, and give them the affection they seem to particularly need the moment I wake up in the morning. As if they go into some type of deficit during the hours I am asleep at night, all of them blocking my way, head butting my ankles, trying to murder me. Trust me, if I were to die of clumsiness, no one would question it- the animals would get off, Scott-free. Whatever Scott-free means. What does that mean, anyway? Hold on, I’m going to google it  real quick…Huh! It means to get off without paying taxes! Who knew? Well, I guess that doesn’t really apply, then, does it? Anyway, it really doesn’t matter, because this has nothing to do with what I was wanting to write about…or does it?

Because, see? I feel better, already. Just that I wrote something, not very meaningful, but hopefully, a little amusing, at least…it makes me happy. And that’s the thing- even when I am super happy, and everything in my life is excellent, writing about it, sharing it with whoever wants to partake…it just makes it that much better. And, when I feel like shit, and everything is falling apart, but I can put it down “on paper” (you know what I mean, don’t be an asshole), it helps me make some sense of it all, at least. Sometimes, I can even coax something beautiful out of what appeared to be nothing more than a mountain of shit, minutes earlier. Writing helps me.

Let’s use gratitude for my next example- I am capable of nearly manic bouts of gratitude for my life. Just the fact that I am no longer killing myself on a daily regime of methamphetamine  and rage is all it takes for me to get real grateful, real quick. Anyway, do you think I can just walk around, bursting at the seams with little rainbow beams of happiness and gratitude? NO. People edge away from you at the grocery store when you are that happy. Trust me, it has happened to me a time or two. In this day and age, really, really happy people are thought to be either crazy or dangerously drugged, and they are not the ones you want your children to make eye contact with. So I can write about it, which is good, because I can share it with you, when you are receptive to it (rather than when you are trying to figure out which cereal to buy, which, lets face it, is pretty freaking stressful), and it also removes some of the pressure of wanting so badly to share my happiness, from me.

Also, I can write sappy things, full of love, for people, that I could never in a million years say to their faces. I mean, that would just be awkward. Plus, can you imagine any child, of any age, sitting still to listen to their mother’s mushy declaration of love and devotion? I hardly think so. Besides, any mother would make it about four words in before she interrupted herself by saying something like “Godammit, don’t roll your eyes at me, I am TRYING to tell you how much I love you!”, thereby pretty thoroughly killing the mood. As an added bonus, unless something changes, I have been told I will die someday. My words will not. So, these things that I write for the people I love will be around for them when I am not. Unless, of course, they happen to die first, in which case, my words will only serve to depress me. My children, however, have been forbidden to die before me, so I don’t worry about that. Much. Well, I try not to, anyway.

Well, my coffee is done. I guess I’ll go have some. Hope you enjoyed this little thing as much as I did. 🙂

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Posted in family, friendship, inner peace, Life, love, People, relationships, Uncategorized

Dilemma

now-what-slideI haven’t felt like writing, the last couple of days. Or, I haven’t felt like writing the stuff I want to write about. Okay, that makes no sense…I guess I don’t feel able to write about the stuff that would make the most sense for me to write about right now, because it is personal, and writing personal stuff has become an issue. Not for me, though- I have no problem with it at all. It’s that, unfortunately, my personal problems nearly always involve at least one other person, and that other person, no matter who it is, gets upset at me for writing about them. My mother thinks I portray her as a horrible person. My best friends somehow interpreted a blog about them as me calling them alcoholics (I re-read this very carefully, and there is no credence to this whatsoever). And of course, the man with whom I share my most recent child…he gets very upset.

The biggest issue he has seems to be that I do not fairly represent his perspective…well, yeah! Most of the writing I have done about him has been in moments of anger, despair, and frustration, and most of the time I was utterly baffled by his behavior. Kind of hard to describe a point of view you are incapable of seeing. Lots of times I wrote as a means to give order and sense to a confusing set of circumstances. Or just to blow off steam. That’s how I always wrote before I had a blog, for the same reasons. I realize that this is a public forum, and if I wasn’t such a praise junky, I’d have made it anonymous and kept my stuff somewhat private…but I am, and here we are.

I resent having to censor myself. Part of me thinks people should just act right and then they’d have nothing to worry about, right? Part of me thinks people are overly-sensitive and not very honest with themselves about what is and is not true about their character. Most of me just feels frustrated that I am worried about speaking my mind, and allowing this to affect my writing, the one thing I have one hundred percent freedom with. A small part of me thinks I would not like someone else writing about me. Ugh.

I could write it out in a private word document, but what would be the fun in that? I am hooked on hitting the “publish” button, then checking my stats every three minutes for the next 24 hours. WordPress has ruined me.

So, I am not going to tell any of you anything. At least not about this, not right now. I will do what the other 98% of the world does when something is eating away at them-keep it to myself, stew, take it out on innocent bystanders. Have some road rage. Take Ativan on a weekend morning, in protest of my insufferable thoughts, and as a flagrant act of passive-aggression. Can’t piss me off if I’m unconscious, that’s my motto. Eh, if only I still had some Ativan…

I’m unhappy. I was so happy just recently, and so this unhappiness is unexpected, and doubly upsetting. I know how to be happy, but I don’t like thinking about what I must do to get there. But the answer has always been the same, I just keep finding new ways to side-step it. I think I am out of ideas. If that is not vague enough to make you want to throw a shoe at me, I don’t know what could be. And I’m sorry. One more thing I just don’t know how to get around right now. Goodnight.