I won’t lie. There is a part of me that enjoys hearing about other people’s struggles in life. Not because I want to place judgement on them. My judgement-filled upbringing has made me hyper-aware of how toxic that nasty little mindset can be (for the judger and the judged).
No, I find solace and peace of mind from hearing that maybe I am not the only one with flaws and imperfections and in general, shit. Yup, every single one of us has our own brand of crazy. And we all have that shit pile somewhere that we try to clean up and deodorize before anyone catches a whiff.
I think part of the reason I like the blogging community so much is that I get to feel that camaraderie, but I am hearing the stories first hand, not through the deadly gossip mill. These people are telling their stories – opening up to whomever happens through.
And I think it’s awesome. Writing is freedom. Writing is when it is easiest for me to be myself, be authentic – imperfections and all.
Some of those inner demons that I’ve kept neatly stuffed away inside are pretty horrific. And I know deep down, those beasts are truly not a part of me, just paraphernalia that I’ve collected along this tumultuous journey. But I’ve been harboring them for so long their roots have intertwined and entangled into everything. Like those horrible thistles that you can never pull out entirely; they pierce your fingers with tiny splintery shards and just when you think you’ve got the main root loose – it snaps – leaving behind it’s lifeforce, to grow back more resilient and stronger than before. That’s when you pull out the Round-Up right?
Writing is my Round-Up. This concoction of words thrown into the cauldron of pages, stirs and churns and bubbles. I type away, allowing the poison to pour directly onto those inner demons. I can almost feel them writhing and shriveling up, their tentacles of roots retreating until they have nearly vanished.
I am through imprisoning myself, allowing those inner demons to root deeper, stronger.
I will write, and I will write often.
{afterall, that’s what this gray daisies blog is about – at least for now}
I am free to be just me.
I totally agree with you. We all have (different) struggle but few acknowledge it. So, we put a mask on with plastic smiles and cheesy faces. As Mark Hall of Casting Crowns wrote in their song “Stained glass masquerade”: “I tuck it all the way, like everything’s OK. If I make them believe it, may be I’ll believe it too. So with a painted grin, I play the part again. So everyone will see me the way that I see them…Only when no one is watching, can we really fall apart?”
Yes! Exactly!
I wonder too, can we really fall apart, even when no ones watching? I think most of us have been ingrained with too much self-consciousness that we worry what our own self thinks about itself! Ha!
I think being self-conscious is human nature. If we look back at the story of Adam and Eve, after they ate the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:17), the first thing they did was sewing fig leaves together to cover themselves up (self-help type strategy) and hiding from the presence of the LORD because of shame (Genesis 3:7-10). We have been bombarded to do the same as Adam and Eve did today through self-help books, self-esteem talk, “fake it till you make it”.