I suppose this is where I seem selfish.
If I had to choose, I would rather write. More so for the fact that writing has become my outlet, my way of staying sane, and communicating with my inner self.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to figure out the tangled mess inside my head. The thoughts keep moving, squirming, darting away as I try to understand them. Especially when emotions are involved.
Writing helps me find the peace, the calm that I sometimes lose sight of.
I love reading other’s thoughts. I love communicating with other people and seeing different perspectives. I love the connections I have made through blogging, and I feel this is something new that I have gained and a crucial aspect to this experience.
It is not merely the writing that I enjoy, but the reading as well. Reading other blogs, other comments. Other perspectives.
Before, while I was simply writing journal pages on my Google Drive I didn’t have the benefit of connecting, communicating, with others. I was stuck with only my perspective, only my thoughts, and if I wanted a different outlook on the situation I had to call a friend, my mom, or talk with a co-worker.
Blogging has given me a way to broaden my understanding of myself, and to have the opportunity to see how others view my interactions. How I may not be seeing all sides of a situation, which is important to me.
Or how others understand where I am coming from. That I’m not being ‘overly emotional’ and that my feelings are justified. Which, again, is important to me.
The thought of being illogical is one of my biggest fears, and is the main reason I reach out to others for feedback and perspective.
I feel I strive extremely hard to be fair, open, honest, and understanding. But sometimes the emotions are so strong that I feel blinded. I fear making the ‘wrong choice’ or doing something out of spite and hatefulness due to my lack of clarity on a situation.
Sometimes I just need to write and let all of the frustration and hurt out so I can see clearly on my own, rather than trying to bottle everything up and pretending that I’m ok.
Sometimes I’m not ok. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Not everything can be happy all the time. That’s part of life. And that’s part of my blog.
It’s the good and bad.
This isn’t my ‘highlight blog’. It’s not just the shiny, pretty things that I’m proud of. It’s not just about my accomplishments and the things I ‘want’ to show. It’s not just the good.
It’s the bad, too. The hard. It’s the uncomfortable things that we hide where they fester away inside ourselves; eating us alive.
I refuse to do that to myself anymore. So no. The bad deserves to have it’s place just as much as the good. And I will write about it.
I will write about my dirty palms, my scraped knees, my tears of hurt and shame.
This blog is everything.
It’s me. Imperfections, shortcomings, flaws, and all.
It’s my reminder that I’m human. That yeah, bad stuff happens, and sometimes people aren’t fair, and I still make a not smart choice now and again, and life can sort of suck every once in a while. But there is so much good that happens to me as well, if only I would stop to remember it. To look back and actually acknowledge the events, all of the events, in my life.
I don’t think it’s fair to say, “Pick writing or reading,” when both are such a huge factor in this experience for me.
While I might not ‘need’ to read other blogs as much as I need to write my own thoughts out, reading is still a necessity for me. It is still part of the equation and without it the experience isn’t whole.
This blog, any blog, is a way to communicate. And you cannot communicate effectively if all you do is talk, write, express.
You must listen as well. You must pause, wait, and breathe. You must be open to information, however it may come to you.
You need to be open to the idea that your words might not be the only words out there. And that sometimes, if you listen, even to the softest whisper, you can hear things that will change your world.