Why Can’t I Write?

I once wrote in a journal of mine that “Happy people don’t write in journals”. I stand by this statement. I’ve only ever been able to write about my life when I couldn’t stand it. The worse my life was, the more devoted  I was to recording my pain.

I have no idea if this is also applicable to my creative writing, all I know is I can’t get a single word out. I have at least one story idea, but no real motivation to write it right now. Any other stories I’ve previously had have fled to parts of my mind unknown, and seemingly unreachable.

I love writing.

It’s such am amazing feeling, weaving together words into something other people can actually experience.

But the thing about any artistry composed entirely of words is that they become real only through the unbridled and raw emotions that the author inserts into the narrative, echoes of their own emotional turmoil.

Maybe this is then the answer as to why I can find no ability to write.

I’ve lived through a variety of emotional lows and highs.

I’ve spent at least half a year in the throes of depression, and other months I’m happier than a baby with his favorite toy.

But when I sit and try to write I feel as dry as an unused ink well.

I feel, in every sense of the word, nothing.

I miss writing.




What To Do

So my attempt at keeping a regular posting schedule died an inglorious death of rotting away and falling deep into the floorboard cracks of my forgotten little online home.

Oh well

Today I realized I have no idea in hell what I want to do.

I have a ridiculously long list of things I SHOULD do.

Call my new parish about registering as parishioners, call my marriage prep councilor, plan wedding, make hair appointments.

But guess what, surprise surprise, I don’t want to do any of it.

Which makes me wonder how do we distinguish what we have to do, what’s actually worth doing especially when we don’t want to do it, from what we just think we have to do.

Now, the majority of my list is actually pretty important stuff with a fast approaching deadline. But, it’s not an IMMEDIATE deadline…

I know, this is just sounding like a lazy 20 year old trying to justify her procrastination right?

Well guess what, my procrastination in the past has worked fairly well. Whether or not this is because of an over exhausted angel that probably would like to strangle my stupid neck for being, well, stupid if they weren’t so angelic., or perhaps a time set by God that I was supposed to being doing exactly that, I suppose I’ll never know.

But that is my question today.

When is it lazy procrastination, and when is it God simply trying to let you know “Hey, this isn’t meant for you right now. Do something else with your time, this will come later.”

I mean there is a precedence.

Remember Abraham?

God promised him that he would be the father of nations. And then made him wait for decades until he was very much an old man before bringing that about.

It was so long after this promise had been given that Sarah his wife laughed when she heard the angels who came to Abraham tell him she would bear a son. She laughed at God’s message because, quite frankly, it was coming very late and sounded down right ridiculous at that point in time.

Before all this though, Abraham tried to fulfill God’s prophecy of fathering nations himself, and had a son with his wife’s handmaid. Of course, this was Sarah’s idea, one she’d later regret as I remember the story. That all went very badly very quickly. God clearly had a set time in mind at which Abraham would have Isaac, and that was not a near future plan.

So what if when we feel really anxious or stressed about something, it’s not us that’s the problem? I’m not saying this is true for all times that are stressful. Some you do have to push through, but what if occasionally that little whisper we think is temptation telling us to put things off, is actually a gentle message from God saying “Wait for me”?

Is there a way we can tell the difference?

I haven’t the faintest clue, but boy I wish I did.

Today I am going to take it as a message from God that I’m supposed to relax, tomorrow I’ll work.

There’s an old saying that everything has its season.

I get a feeling today wedding planning is not my number one priority.

But now that makes me wonder what is.

What am I supposed to be doing?






Dealing With Pain

I never really suffered from grief as deeply as other members of my family. Death has just seemed a natural part of life. I miss people who die, of course, but I’ve never felt severe depression or grief because of death.

Loneliness is my pain.

I don’t mean being at home alone, or out somewhere by myself. I like my quiet moments alone, and goodness knows I have very few of those now and in future will have hardly any at all.

I mean loneliness as it deals with the isolation of a soul. Feeling like you have no one with you or to talk to or who you can share things with.

Loneliness as it is when you have no friends, no one who likes you or likes spending time with you.

When I was little I didn’t have a lot of close friends. We’d move a lot, and often lived a ways away from other homeschoolers or parish members.

But there were people who’d talk to me.

There weren’t exactly no cliques, but they were more like people who just knew each other really well but could still socialize with other people outside their small group. They knew how to be nice to everyone, even if they knew only a select few people really really well.

Now, no one talks to me.

I have two very close friends, one of which I’m beyond happy to call my fiancé.

But here, where I live and the places I go. Church, school, work, Friday nights I’m free… I have no one.

After church on Donut Sundays I sit in the basement with my donut and my juice or milk and watch the little kids run and play, the adults talk and mingle at table after table, and the young adults get in their small groups, heads together, discussing things only their group knows, things only they understand. No outsiders allowed.

At school all the kids know each other already. They’ve all been at this particular school for years, possibly went to high school together. I’m the weird transfer student who missed friend making year and the intro classes. Those who are older and returning to school don’t really care about making friends with the tiny college students ten years young than they. They have jobs, businesses, families, their own circles.

Who am I supposed to talk to?

Am I supposed to talk to someone?

Well, I’d like to… I’m not a crazy social person, but there are days I feel an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness. A feeling of not belonging.

I have no one, and no activities or clubs here that I can enjoy and make me feel like I’m a part of something.

There’s so many things out there, so many medications for grief, counseling options…

What do you do when you’re only a twenty-something and feel more like an abandoned grandma whose kids never visit and the community thinks is an anti-social nutcase?




I Just Don’t Know…

As I’ve said I don’t know how many times in the past blog posts I hate not having control.

There is nothing more vile to me then having to utter with some genuine heartbreak, “I don’t know”.

And yet I know nothing.

Sure, I can do long division. I know the history of the American revolution. I know how Star Wars Episode 5 ends.

But I don’t know how to have the perfect life, how to have a life of no regrets and complete happiness. I don’t know… and that’s ok.

Recently I confessed to my mother something I’m still not comfortable discussing with others, even anonymously.

I thought she’d be mad and horrified that I’ve thrown my life away, or at least I’ve thought of it like that for months.

It turns out, even if she is mad, she can be very helpful sometimes.

Who knew a mom could actually be helpful huh?

I’m still trying to learn how to be happy again with a complete 180 happening on my life’s apart direction. It’s a struggle, constant and warlike in nature. Some days are harder than others, while once in a while I can actually find the strength to smile through.

I still have a long way to go.

But as it turns out I can get excited, even if briefly, about what lies ahead.

Sometimes giving up on one distinct course of life, even if it is solid, sensible, and safe, can set you up for a world of possibility. You just have to see the forest for the trees, and have the patience to find the one that whispers dreams and pleasant thoughts to you.


Is It a Bad Thing to be Antisocial?

So, as I write this I’ve been hiding in my room for the entirety of the day.

As I didn’t wake up until 10:30, this hasn’t been sooo long, but still.

My mother had another family over, and every one is being all social and stuff, but…. yeah… I’m up here in my room typing blog posts, cleaning my closet, cleaning my room, and playing on youtube (Malinda Kathleen Reese. Go look her up).

My point is I’ve been what some might call “antisocial”.

Here is the situation though.

  1. I’ve been away at school for a year and a half of the two years my parents have lived in this area. I. Don’t. Know. People. Here.
  2. This particular family didn’t have anyone remotely close to my age for me to even attempt conversing with. For goodness sakes, the oldest is 6 years younger than me!
  3. I’m a little preoccupied with, you know, planning my life, prepping for an upcoming job interview, the usual unemployed 20 year old stuff.

So I’ve been down stairs like twice to get food, said hi, was nice, then bowed myself out again after grabbing a supply of rations.

Is that so wrong?

I don’t know… I’m a social person, I like talking to people, but I do have actual stuff to do and even if I was down there I’d have no one to talk to.

I feel like if you have no one to BE social with in the first place, you’re not so much being antisocial as being excluded.

But that’s just my opinion.

What’s yours?