Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Writing Exercise

So, every day I think, "Gee, I should post a blog." Then I think, I don't have anytyhing to say and I don't post anything. And I suppose there's no reason I should feel guilty about it, because a blog is a voluntary thing; there's no compulsory posting. But I feel like since I have one I should post and post something significant.

I guess that I often have significant thinngs to say, but I'm afraid. Fear of Posting. Why? Gee, I don't know that I really want to go into this here. I think fear of posting is fear of writing is fear of being. I often feel that: afraid to be. Yesterday was really bad, with palpitations and nausea and the whole when people say, "Don't be afraid, just be!" like in some New Age and Buddhist camps, I get really angry because they're missing the point.

I told myself I would write just whatever popped into my head for 20 minutes and I just looked at my timer and only three minutes have gone by. Jeez.

"Just Being" is supposed to give you this wonderful feeling of liberation--like, wow, I've thrown off the constraints of society and gotten to what's underneath and now I realise the truth of my soul. the "I never knew who I was" moment of Satori. But for me, it's not like that. I always knew who I was and hardly ever went along with what society planned for me. And that led to problems. How can you stand against that weight? Everyone's always so..."Wake up and be yourself and you'll be free and it's wonderful;" they don't get the weight. Of course, when I'm myself I'm also not like the groups of people who suddenly made their personal discoveries and are all happy about it. I don't fit into any group--mostly because i'm smarter than 99% of the people on the planet. I also don't swallow the simple reasoning that most folks are so eager to swallow. Primary Source woman, that's me.

Six minutes to go and I wonder if I can keep this up. My thought processes seem to go all over the place. But I guess that's what I get with being bi-polar. It astounds me that no one got this for 25 years, but everyone was too attached to his or her idea that I was just some kid acting out from....who knows what. I mean, why do you think kids act out, anyway? And people still really don't want to hear about it. You know, I e-mailed all my siblings when I got diagnosed (finally) and only one of them even replied?? You'd think that at least I'd hear a "I'm so glad you finally got some answers." but All I got was silence.

That's my family for you. silent and stagnant and I think mostly no one replied because if they acccept the reality of my illness they also have to start looking at some other dysfunctional things about themselves. I wrote one of my sisters some years ago about the abuse and neglect in my family and she wrote back saying it never happened. Can you believe that? I never was able to ignore the elephant in the living room but I guess for some people ignoring it is all that lets them survive.

Time's up.

1 comment:

Kelli said...

aint that the truth.
oh maaan, i wish you would dive into that more. I know it would be difficult, but I seem to have some the same familial issues and rather than deal with them, I have also pretended they never happened. I know they did and I won't like about it, but the memories it drudges.. ooh, what a mess.