Writer’s Block

I used to love writing. I still do, but now I have a lot of trouble pouring out my thoughts on paper (or a keyboard) in any form of coherent manner. There just seems to be this hesitation that never used to be there. What if people hate what I write? What if I come across sounding wanky and egotistical? Why am I so unsure of myself? *cue smacking my head on the desk repeatedly*

I have started sharing my stories again, personal ones, and every single time without fail I am filled with anxiety and spend ages hovering over the ‘post’ key. It feels so freaking stupid, I know logically that nothing bad is going to happen, nearly everyone has a blog these days, it’s amazing. I love reading people’s personal thoughts and cheering them on their journey, so why would mine be any different?

I attended a personal development retreat recently, and the first exercise we did was to write down our personal story, just pen to paper, keep writing for half an hour solid. That part was easy, I just turned my brain off and kept scribbling until I was told to stop. Surprisingly I had filled up pages and pages, I hadn’t written this much in ages and I was starting to feel quite proud of myself. It felt good to get some things out on paper.

“Now read it to the person next to you”

Wut.

My palms started sweating and I could feel an anxiety attack coming on. Luckily it was their turn first and I was blown away by the honesty and trust as she just poured her heart out to a complete stranger. So I held space and tried not to cry, and trusted her to do the same for me. It was hard. Like, really hard. I was an attractive mess, tears and snot pouring down my face by the end of it. I didn’t realize how much certain things still hurt to talk about. Then we did it again. And again. Kept repeating our story until it didn’t hurt anymore.

That weekend was hard, and I am still processing some of the things that came up for me, even though it was about a month ago now. While I am still scared shitless about sharing personal things out of fear of judgement, I know I can do it and not die. So I’m going to do it, and keep doing it until I feel confidant and stop caring what people think of me.

Here’s to an interesting journey.

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