Fear and Healing

It’s been a while since I posted on here last. It wasn’t just the blog; I’ve struggled to write at all these past two weeks.

I’ve been afraid.

Sometimes writing just scares the living daylight out of me! The responsibility of putting those words on paper, the temptation to take my writing in all the wrong directions, the obsession that’s waiting to pounce, the desire for perfection (compounded by the knowledge that that’s an impossibility), the pressure to be a certain something to have my writing accepted: all of it combines into one giant fear of writing, and I haven’t written much lately.

These are the times when I feel crazy for wanting to be a writer. I want to do something that I’m afraid of?!? Well, yes. Because it’s not that I want to be a writer. I am a writer. I can’t not write. Not really. I go stir-crazy, things bottling up in my head. So I’ve been going a bit stir crazy lately, in addition to everything else.

And, in the end, I gave in, in a way. I stopped writing for a few days, focused on something else entirely. This post wasn’t too hard to write, and the prospect didn’t scare me. Instead, writing it has made me feel light and whole.

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