losing voice
I took a break from writing. It wasn't a conscious decision. I feel as if my creative voice fell away. I am again under the microscope of perfection. I find myself here occasionally; paralyzed by my own expectations that are rooted in some unreachable, unattainable far away place. I end up choking, smothered by my own boundaries.
The truth is I only write when I am in turmoil. Having touched upon this subject before I don't know why I am surprised by this observation. Now comes the difficult part of finding the root of my unease. Work is intense and great, yet temporary. My home is in effect not really a home any longer. It is a shell, housing my goods until I can find a place to call home. That's unnerving. I am in a relationship. Mind you, I am not bad at relationships, it is only that I have a hard time being still while involved with someone. I am always anticipating the unexpected disappearance of my partner. Whom ever this partner is does not matter; they are arbitrary in my issues of abandonment. I believe that I am good, fundamentally good. Though it seems I fall short of being good enough. This is strange to me. I certainly have insecurities; but I believe I am worth it, to someone I am worth it. This post may be read, it may not be, but as I discussed in a previous post, that's not why I write. I use this medium to understand what it is that my silence is screaming. So far I am not any closer to interpreting this foreign language of mine. I do believe now though that things are a little more tumultuous than I was giving them credit for. Nothing in my life is currently bad, so when I have these feelings of unease, I fear the worst. It is apparent that I am uncomfortable in complacency. Though, isn't that a contradiction in terms? I am certainly unsettled, I just haven't yet found the defining point. It seems that there must be more than one specific notion for this feeling that I feel.
Armed with self-acceptance I will move forward. I like to wrap things up in pretty, little, exquisite boxes and be sure that all is settled. That won't happen today. Oh life, here I am.
The truth is I only write when I am in turmoil. Having touched upon this subject before I don't know why I am surprised by this observation. Now comes the difficult part of finding the root of my unease. Work is intense and great, yet temporary. My home is in effect not really a home any longer. It is a shell, housing my goods until I can find a place to call home. That's unnerving. I am in a relationship. Mind you, I am not bad at relationships, it is only that I have a hard time being still while involved with someone. I am always anticipating the unexpected disappearance of my partner. Whom ever this partner is does not matter; they are arbitrary in my issues of abandonment. I believe that I am good, fundamentally good. Though it seems I fall short of being good enough. This is strange to me. I certainly have insecurities; but I believe I am worth it, to someone I am worth it. This post may be read, it may not be, but as I discussed in a previous post, that's not why I write. I use this medium to understand what it is that my silence is screaming. So far I am not any closer to interpreting this foreign language of mine. I do believe now though that things are a little more tumultuous than I was giving them credit for. Nothing in my life is currently bad, so when I have these feelings of unease, I fear the worst. It is apparent that I am uncomfortable in complacency. Though, isn't that a contradiction in terms? I am certainly unsettled, I just haven't yet found the defining point. It seems that there must be more than one specific notion for this feeling that I feel.
Armed with self-acceptance I will move forward. I like to wrap things up in pretty, little, exquisite boxes and be sure that all is settled. That won't happen today. Oh life, here I am.
posted by amandakate at 12:44 PM
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