I have always liked to write, but this blog is the first time I have done it consistently and publicly. For a while, I was torn between wanting people to read it and being terrified that people might actually read it. For me, writing is a very personal thing. The act of sharing my thoughts with others puts me in a very vulnerable position, which I probably did not think about when I started this blog. For a while now, I have been very self-conscious about the fact that people are reading what I write and seem to find it credible. That is quite an honor, and it's also slightly terrifying. Being aware of this, I have become guarded in my writing. I have stuck with topics that are safe and can be wrapped up nicely into little moral lessons that make me seem to posses some sort of wisdom that people enjoy. Everything has been pretty and proper, and I have filtered out the ugly, rough parts and pushed them back into my mind until only a portion of my creativity is allowed to escape. Tonight, I find myself realizing that this kind of writing does not satisfy me. I have been writing from my mind instead of my heart, and it has been mediocre. Tonight, due to exhaustion, over confidence from my recent increase in age, and a single faint streak of rebellion, I have decided to once again return to writing from the heart, because I have decided that honest writing is more important to me than the approval of readers.
I often write as if I have a faith much stronger than I actually do. Very soon after I lost my job, I realized that if I was going to write about it, I had to have some sort of a conclusion, The natural way of a writer is to introduce a conflict and resolve it, and I rushed through this process quite recklessly. I admitted that I was angry, but I did not elaborate in a way that would reveal the true emotions I had at the time because they were not what I thought my readers would approve of. I did not reveal how very hurt I was to be treated in such a way, and how it made me fear that this will be a reoccurring situation throughout my entire life. I did not dare admit that I went through a time of being mad at God for allowing me to have this opportunity after searching so hard for a job, and then let it be taken away from me for no good reason. To be completely truthful, I am just now starting to shed that anger, and I think a small piece of hurt from this situation will always be present. It was a very hard thing for me to go through, and I felt quite lonely going through it. It was hard to accept that in real life, the good guy doesn't always win, and some things are simply just not fair.
Another thing I have been holding back is a personal journey that started last week. I have worn braces on my legs for as long as I can remember, and the thought of being rid of them was the one thing in my life that I truly labeled impossible. Recently it has been decided that now that I am done growing, it is a real possibility that I can get strong enough to only need them for long distances, and that they won't have to be a part of my daily life. I can't even begin to explain to you how big of a deal this is to me. I will just say that I am getting something that I have always wanted, and yet the world does not seem to share my excitement. Perhaps I overestimated people's understanding of the situation, but very few people who know about this have reacted in a way that I would like. It's just lonely sometimes not having someone who cares about you enough that they can be excited for your triumphs with you without having to be begged.
I have not written about my loneliness in these situations because it is a vulnerable thing that I was not sure I wanted to share. I am at a place in my life right now where I don't have a lot of social activities happening or a lot of strong friendships I can rely on. I have had to go through a lot of hard times virtually alone, and although I know you will want to tell me that God is always with me, I admit that it would be nice if he would designate a person to be physically present with me through all of this. So, now that I have revealed all of these not so attractive emotions to you. I will probably post this and become extremely embarrassed and hide from it for a while. I just felt like I needed to be honest and stop trying to write things that sounded good just to trick people into thinking I was some kind of literary prodigy. I would also like to point out that I am not trying to call anyone out, and I know that certain people like my parents are always there for me even when I can't help but feel lonely. Writing this will not cure my loneliness, but it will satisfy my desire to write genuinely and I hope that it will signify the return of writing with my heart instead of trying to make everything logical and correct. Feelings like loneliness are not comfortable to think about, but if writers only wrote about things that are comfortable, no great stories would ever be told.