I’ve been saying I have writers block a lot lately. And I’m realizing I don’t. I’m also realizing I’m not sure if I believe in ‘writers block’. I think it’s a cop out. I think it’s easier to ignore a blank page then turn it into something more. Something intricate and revealing. Something ugly, but pure. I think what I’ve been struggling with is a lot more of facing myself rather than facing a blank page. I don’t know quite how to put these feeling into words. Writing can be a terrible thing in that way. I don’t know half the time if it’s helping me getting all these thoughts that can brake people in halves into words or if it’s more of a divine torture forcing yourself to face them.
The only way I know how to say it is, I have been so many different people.Referencing a post from a few days ago, maybe this is what getting older feels like. Maybe I’m starting to see all these things in myself I’ve never noticed before simply because of a better understanding of how continuously people change. And how incredibly adaptive we all are. It’s absolutely crazy and phenomenal and beautiful to me. I think maybe that’s what I’m mistaken writers block for, maybe it’s just this complex range of emotions I’ve never felt. Maybe, and again, maybe not.
I don’t know how these things happen. I could never explain or comprehend how we’re designed to be as many different people as I, as you, as we all have been. It used to be so hard for me to look at myself. To think about the kind of person I was. And just now am i learning to be okay with it. I don’t dwell on the things I’ve done, to myself, to people I’ve cared about. Simply because I’m now becoming a person I’m proud to be. And that’s a feeling I have never experienced. So maybe that’s what this all is. It’s perplexing to me. I have been confused. I have been anxious. I have been self loathing. I have been destructive. I have been greedy. I have been a liar. I have been inconsiderate. I have been delirious. I have been miserable in my own skin. But I have also loved, far more for people I never should have. I have overcome abuse I didn’t deserve. I have put others before myself. I have started eating disorder awareness campaigns. I have smiled at strangers. I have reached out to people who’s names I don’t even know. And I have mustered up all the power in me to recover. And I’m finally at peace with who I’ve been because I realize that’s no longer what I am.
I’ve struggled so badly with peoples opinions of me. I have struggled so badly in general. But I think the opinion I struggled with most was my own. But, for the first time in my life I can admit in all the ways, and all the terrible people I’ve been. But for the first time in my life I can also say I am proud of who I am. And that’s enough for me.
Breathe easy guys, life is a beautiful thing.
-H
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