Float On By

A couple days since I have had the wherewithal to write, and I am finding that I regret not chronicling what I have been going through, if only to examine it so I can find this suffering’s purpose or the good within it.

But maybe that is the problem with me.  I tend to cling to what happens to me and around me, to roll it over and over to try to make sense of it all.  If I have learned anything from that book I am reading, it is to just let it all float by.  So today this is all I will write, because of the fear that a long post would be filled with crazy angsty crap full of excuses.  I think I will use writing more to just mark the day.  So today I mark this day full of insanity, but I let it float on by, for now.

I Don’t Want To Talk About It!

But why?  I think that some good could come from me sharing my pain experiences, and how life has changed in order to deal with pain.  But I truly avoid talking about it with anyone, let alone putting words on a page to be recorded for all eternity, when maybe at some point those words could help someone else.

Do I really want to write to help other people?  If so, why do I avoid it like the plague.  Days come up where I feel like something that has happened is worth noting, and worth putting down.  I think I struggle with writing in general because I have a fear of the permanence of words. Once they have been published, or put out into the universe, they are there for all time.  The internet makes this all too easy.  I think I write by hand in assorted notebooks that I keep with me, or around my house on different shelves and tables, so that I can write, but it can still be private.  Am I hoping that like Emily Dickenson, that someday someone discovers all my bits and pieces of writing, my rants and whines, and ugly poetry and holier-than-thou declarations, all of which I seem to be deeply embarrassed by, will be found and prized by the public?  I really don’t think so.

So my real endeavor today is to decide that I will try to record and share my chronic pain experiences.  For somehow, it is important, and could help others who experience pain, if just for something to relate to.  To help others feel like they are not alone in their experiences, that someone on this huge earth understands their tiny lives, this could be a purpose.  But I feel so tiny and alone, and that is why I think what I have to share and say is unimportant to anyone but me.  That could be perceived as an elitist attitude too…it short I am down on myself in general, and that is the first thing I need to stop

Stop it, stop it!  I am going to start writing and sharing, if only to try to share what I go through and the fact that I find a way to make it through another day, and then another.  Is that an accomplishment or something even to be proud of?  I don’t know, but lets see what my writing will do.  I can at least try!