Rewind It to the Beginning
Many people who I have shared this blog page with are aware that I am in a class for blogging. They usually ask me why I decided to take on such a personal topic for a class. My answer to this ranges from "Yeah, I guess it is kind of crazy" or "My advisors made me do it." The latter is obviously meant as a joke, but they really did have an influence in my decision.
In reality I didn't know at the beginning what I would learn from writing about all of this. I didn't know what it would feel like to share such personal details of my life with friends and strangers.
The overall feeling I have about posting is relief.
I went back to the start of this whole blog decision and I looked at some of my earliest posts. It is there that I see the hesitation in my writing, which I eventually ended up writing about (Thanks, Mom).
I think everyone could tell that I was very unsure at the beginning. I think they knew that I had become accustomed to keeping this part of my life tucked safely away and that I was daring to be bold, something my extremely introverted self doesn't do too often.
I think my posts started to change when I knew that I would publish some of the letters that I wrote for Howard. I never got used to keeping a regular diary about my life because I didn't particularly see what was interesting about documenting the most mundane characteristics about myself... but when it came to the pain I felt, it was almost effortless.
When people ask me how I write so often, I usually tell them it is like therapy. I tell them that it hurts if I don't write. Writer's block is very real and it is also very painful. Ask any writer you know this and I am pretty sure they will tell you something similar.
Since I started my career track in journalism I think I lost sight of what it meant to write creatively. I got used to writing about the news and detailing facts in a easy and straightforward way that I forgot what it meant to lose all track of time when I started jotting away ideas and phrases. This class brought me back into that creative side of myself.
I decided I didn't want to keep it in anymore.
Since I started this blog I have received many messages and calls from people who are dealing with the exact same thing that I am. They say to me that they are glad that I am doing this because they don't know how to put their emotions into words. I sometimes say that I don't know how either, but I'd like to think I'm helping in some way.
I do think that the diligence to keep this up is probably the hardest thing. I sometimes feel the pressure to organize my more depressing posts with something that is a little more light-hearted. After all, I am not the sort of person that is constantly looming from place to place unsure of what I am feeling or where I am going.
It is important for you all to know that I do have good days.
So how am I doing? I suppose the answer is I'm doing pretty well. I have figured out that I do have fragments of myself before Howard's death that I thought I lost. I am still in the process of piecing them all back together to try and figure out where I lost myself along the way. But I think that is the point. I am trying.
Written: 3.21.17
In reality I didn't know at the beginning what I would learn from writing about all of this. I didn't know what it would feel like to share such personal details of my life with friends and strangers.
The overall feeling I have about posting is relief.
I went back to the start of this whole blog decision and I looked at some of my earliest posts. It is there that I see the hesitation in my writing, which I eventually ended up writing about (Thanks, Mom).
I think everyone could tell that I was very unsure at the beginning. I think they knew that I had become accustomed to keeping this part of my life tucked safely away and that I was daring to be bold, something my extremely introverted self doesn't do too often.
I think my posts started to change when I knew that I would publish some of the letters that I wrote for Howard. I never got used to keeping a regular diary about my life because I didn't particularly see what was interesting about documenting the most mundane characteristics about myself... but when it came to the pain I felt, it was almost effortless.
When people ask me how I write so often, I usually tell them it is like therapy. I tell them that it hurts if I don't write. Writer's block is very real and it is also very painful. Ask any writer you know this and I am pretty sure they will tell you something similar.
Since I started my career track in journalism I think I lost sight of what it meant to write creatively. I got used to writing about the news and detailing facts in a easy and straightforward way that I forgot what it meant to lose all track of time when I started jotting away ideas and phrases. This class brought me back into that creative side of myself.
I decided I didn't want to keep it in anymore.
Since I started this blog I have received many messages and calls from people who are dealing with the exact same thing that I am. They say to me that they are glad that I am doing this because they don't know how to put their emotions into words. I sometimes say that I don't know how either, but I'd like to think I'm helping in some way.
I do think that the diligence to keep this up is probably the hardest thing. I sometimes feel the pressure to organize my more depressing posts with something that is a little more light-hearted. After all, I am not the sort of person that is constantly looming from place to place unsure of what I am feeling or where I am going.
It is important for you all to know that I do have good days.
So how am I doing? I suppose the answer is I'm doing pretty well. I have figured out that I do have fragments of myself before Howard's death that I thought I lost. I am still in the process of piecing them all back together to try and figure out where I lost myself along the way. But I think that is the point. I am trying.
Written: 3.21.17
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