breakdown, and let it all out...

Here's the funny thing, all this time I thought catharsis only worked if you spewed all over other people. I wrote a post nearly two weeks ago about what was causing my writer's block, and I have read and reread that post many times since then. I have been hesitant to post it because it contains some very vulnerable sh*t and I wonder(ed) if it would affect the way folks interact with me (especially since a number of my readers are people I interact with outside of the internet). What I've come to realize, however, is that by virtue of writing down what I have been avoiding, I have become substantially less blocked. Am I half way through the next great American novel? No. But I am writing - in this space, comments on other spaces, in my leather bound journal, poems, honorary pieces for special occasions, funny bits and pieces... I was not doing that before because the only thing that wanted to come out of me was the thing that I wanted so desperately to keep inside. (This is strictly metaphorical and not at all anatomical, folks. Don't be alarmed.)

I spoke to a very good friend of mine about this writer's block and my struggle with it. Why, if I knew what was causing the problem, would I not fix it? Why not remove the block? Well, maybe because that block is the cornerstone in a much larger wall - perhaps even a dam. And am I ready for it all to come tumbling down - am I ready to sink or swim in it - just so I can get some words out? That's a tough one.

Shouts out to the other earnest, inconsistent bloggers out there. We'll get around to it, and we'll wait.