My blog didn't just die. I think it was murdered. I was there, in the moment, composing in my head, scribbling ideas on restaurant napkins, looking at the world through a twisty lens, crossing my fingers for strange events and other blog fodder. I was a blogger, not big time, but I had readers - really awesome readers who thought about what I wrote and cared about what happened to me, what upset me, what woke me up in the night.
But something stabbed the heart of me. I found myself abandoning this thing, this glorious thing that had become so precious to me. Something broke inside of me and I could not go on.
Wait. That's kind of a lie. Presently, I'm more fixed than I've ever been. My emotions and thought processes are all spackled and glued and scotch taped up. It not a neat result but a functional one. If my life were a movie and I rewound it a year, I would be standing on the balcony of a tall building looking longingly at the pavement below. I would be holding a bottle of painkillers in my hand and wondering how they would feel going into my belly all at once. I would be driving my car, staring down at my hands and waiting expectantly for the hard turn into oncoming traffic. I wanted to die something awful. It was all my little brain could think about. The end of Gwen. The end of me.
There is a vicious pattern to my mind. It takes me to really gross places at intervals. Like this bubbling up of self-hatred. It makes me want to hurt myself in the sickest ways. I've given up on trying to figure out why it comes. I only know that it does.
But not lately. Not today.
This is the problem. It seems I only have the ability to write beautifully when my soul is in a hideous condition. There exists in me a strange mating of creativity and misery.
I wonder if I have anything worthwhile to say while I am well. If anyone would care to know that part of me.
I know the sickness will return. It is a very reliable visitor and arrives in many forms. But for now I am all OK and boring as hell.
1 day ago
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Art is a lot easier when you have something in your gut that is pushing and prodding and scraping and gnawing and forcing itself out of your throat in intricate shapes. It's a lot easier when you feel like your bones are rattling and about to burst through your skin because you are cold and shivering and wildly unhappy.
ReplyDeletebut that SUCKS. So Gwen, thanks for being happy and for surviving through because when it came down to it, us readers maybe couldn't have helped you as much as you needed and so it is good to know you are happy and well.
Personally, I'd read about you being happy.
ReplyDeleteI think you've got it in you to write well, regardless of the anguish or pain. Joy is an emotion too, remember.
I find the same thing to be true, but if you really love to write, you'll find new and different ways to write. Just like you found new and different ways to live.
ReplyDeleteAnd if you don't continue to write? Well, at least you are living newly and differently.
I'm happy you are still around, lady.
I think that's why I get blocks. Lately, I just haven't needed to vent that much. Lately, I've been feeling alright. I've been happy. I just don't want to blog. I only blog when I have tears streaming down my face or something awful happens (like when my kid shits all over the house). I don't know what it's like to be "normal" and now I'm bored with MYSELF, even. Sheesh.
ReplyDeleteHeck, I'll come read anyways. you intrigue me.
Gwen - I sympathize. What you describe was, in essence, what happened to me about twenty years ago.
ReplyDeleteI changed over time, and grew inpired to write down the things that I was fascinated by, intrigued by, wondered about, rather than the things that I was sure were going to drag me down. I'm not dismal any more. I found a new muse.
You write well. I hope you find a new muse. But I, for one, would rather have you feeling better but uninspired than totally inspired but one step away from disaster.
Gwen,
ReplyDeleteYou were one of the first people to comment regularly on my blog and I appreciated it more than you can know.
I agree with Pos and hope that you do find a new muse. Also, I disagree with Geo. Art does not have to come from a dark, shivering unhappy place.
Blessings to you...I'm toasting to your good health.
Cindy
Honestly, I'm thrilled to read this happy Gwen blog entry. I remember those dark blogs and while they were beautifully crafted, they tore at me while I was reading them. I don't know you well, you don't know me but it's still so hard to see someone you like suffering, even if it's just on a basic human level. So I sincerely hope you stay happy and keep that soul of yours healthy. That's the Gwen I'd rather read. :-)
ReplyDeleteMaybe it won't return. And hey, dumbass...read what you wrote? You CAN TOO write when you're happy and whole. You're just busy! It'll happen when it happens.
ReplyDeletep.s. kidding about the dumbass thing. You're not a dumbass at all.
I get it Gwen. But I'm actually kind of the opposite. I seemed to have more to say that was funny when my life didn't have a big weight on it and now I'm wishing for those times so I could write something light and not the sad sappy shit that comes every time I sit down to the keyboard. I don't know. I've had sort of a rough year and a half or so and all I do is think of things I wish I could do with my blog but most of them involve funny and lighter inspiration that I can't seem to find in the day to day anymore.
ReplyDeleteBut hey, if happiness means you won't be writing, I'll miss your voice but be thankful for your silence, because honestly, you being happy is the best news of all.