Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Place Holder

I'm still figuring out what I want to do with this blog.  For now, this quickly typed post will have to do.

I've struggled my whole life with writing.  I can be good at it, and I do enjoy it, but I also hate it.  I hate it because it is hard, because I am very self-critical of my writing, and because it is one of the things in my life that if I can't do it perfectly, I don't want to do it at all.  Since nobody does things perfectly, this is an impossible situation.  I also am no fan of the anger and sadness I feel when I read something by somebody who is a gifted writer.  Nothing but sad, unearned jealousy over the talents of another, and such a waste of my emotional time. 

Just between you and me, imaginary reader (OK, my partner), writing to me is so enveloped in my own insecurities that it is probably for the best that I don't pursue it as a main focus in my life.  The insecurities I speak of are the insecurities of someone who is conflicted with shame about their need for attention, validation, and praise.  Because it is so much easier to deal with life when you only have two choices, I seem to swing between thinking I should dive into whatever it is one 'does' to get a wide bandwidth of attention and validation, and thinking I should become a modest monk, spending my days composing faint odes to willow trees and whippoorwills.  Writing, since it is the first thing I learned I was good at, is the place where these anxieties settle.

So, as I said, this post is a place holder.  The idea of place holder as an image that reflects my life is too rich to pass up, so let me touch upon that briefly.  I am in a time of waiting, and while in some ways my whole life has felt like that, always waiting for something to happen, and usually too fearful to make it happen, this waiting is different.  The future is clearly spread before me, and forces beyond my control, for the most part, are keeping me from activating that future.  Since this is a very good place to be, I am struggling with being happy and satisfied with my life while at the same time being depressed and unmotivated because I can't flip over that first domino that gets the whole thing going.  Tis a weird place to be, both hopeful and depressed, and since these sorts of non-binary problematics are exactly what I try to avoid, I'm still figuring out how to move forward without 'moving' at all.

Happy New Year!


  1. I know it seems trite, but you have articulated a lot of notions that I really relate to, about writing, about validation, about depression and hope. I suddenly got very tearful. Thanks for making this place holder.

  2. Thanks for your bravery in being so open and vulnerable. Hugs!

  3. Thank you both for reading, and understanding. Please forgive my delay in responding. Writing is such a terribly hard activity, but one that is impossible to let go of.