The words are strange to my mouth, "I haven't felt like writing".
The statement is even stranger to my ears.
I've written all my life. Before I knew how to write I scrawled lines of pretend cursive on mom's note pads or any other piece of paper I got my hands on.
I wrote about dreams. I told about places I'd been or something I'd seen that sparked my curiosity. Often I expanded upon interactions with friends and/or animals subconsciously adding plots. Periodically I took inspiration from TV shows and wrote an episode or spin-off.
As I grew older writing became an emotional outlet. Poetry or prose, it really didn't matter as long as the act of putting pen to paper eased the "too-full, going to burst" sensation in my head. Then when I moved to writing on the computer there came the added bonus of hitting the delete key symbolically eradicating the pain from existence.
Writing has always held a major role in expressing my creative nature. I also: paint, draw, sew, bead and play several musical instruments. While these are great hobbies, they are limited by location, time and space.
This has been a very difficult summer. It has been an extremely sad summer. For the first time in years I've actually wished to be back on OCD meds so my brain was wrapped in layers of cotton. Ok, while that is a true statement, it is not quite the full truth. I have no desire to live in a haze ever again. This has just been one unrelenting summer. I barely had caught my breath and wiped my eyes before the next sad news phone call hit.
Since the end of July I've had to make a conscious effort to breath: inhale, exhale, relax while conducting business. I haven't made it through a day without crying multiple times.
Now here I am days before making [another] major move across country and I should be excited. I can talk a good game. I can pretend there's all sorts of things I'm looking forward to seeing and doing. All the preparations have been made and route west has been mapped. But raw emotions make it difficult to see beyond loss and regrets.
Exhale; blow nose, wipe eyes
Inhale; focus on the horizon
Exhale; accept that I did my best
Inhale; carry the love, leave the regrets
In case you're wondering why I put exhale first it's because when sad things happen one after the other we tend to hold our breaths waiting for the next wave to knock us. You have to exhale in order to inhale. I feel like I've been holding my breath for months. Even though I've been crying everything inside of me is bottled up. So much has happened in secession I'm waiting for another shoe to drop.
Exhale; release what I have no control over
Inhale; grasp opportunity
Exhale; free the emotional log jamb
Inhale; start writing again.