Why this? Why now? Why me?
I know the answers to the first two questions, but unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to the third one.
I’ve never been much a writer, my thing is thinking; I’m good with words when they don’t leave my head. Plus, I don’t have the discipline that writing requires nor the vocabulary. So don’t expect this blog to be a piece of crafty and inspired writing. I don’t want this to be sophisticated; I want it to be authentic.
It’s been more than a year that I’ve been feeling down. With severe anxiety and feelings of sadness, I lost my ability to focus on the task at hand. I don’t know if it’s depression, I don’t know if it’s some existential crisis, what I know is that it can be a turning point in my life and how I perceive things, so I’m giving this crisis enough space to exist.
I wanted to start this little experiment, a blog because I’m feeling like I’m losing myself. That I don’t know what I am doing. Why am I here, and where am I headed to. I was always the type of person who knew what they wanted and what they had to do to get it. The feeling of uncertainty is eating me up inside.
I want to write my heart out. I want to write until I find myself. Writing might heal my imaginary wounds. Maybe I can put words on them, and the pain would magically disappear. I need to speak up, and maybe this will help others make their voice heard. I tried to fit in with different societies (two in total), and in the process, I forgot that I needed to fit in with my own world and follow my own path. I forgot my dreams. But are they still the same? Or do I need to create new ones?
I considered writing anonymously, so I can still appear to be the person in control of every aspect of their life. But I feel the urge to drop the mask, to tell people about my thoughts and opinions. I want readers to associate them with me. I feel that urge the same way a sinner feels the urge to confess. Maybe this is all about feeling accepted.
However, this urge is -unsurprisingly- accompanied by fear; I am terrified by the idea of my family, friends and coworkers reading this. This fear is so irrational considering the content of this post. I wonder at which point in my life I lost the ability to tell people that I’m confused and that I’m no longer in control. Or maybe I’ve never had that ability in the first place.
This is about a journey of self-discovery, about my life, about life! Some posts will be light-hearted, some will be just neutral opinion pieces, and some will be controversial or sad. I don’t know really; I’m assuming that it would be the case because I am complex, and so are you.
Read your heart out, and don’t forget to write back.