Sixteen Behind

I'm not sure where my severe case of writers block stems from. Perhaps it's some form of self preservation, preventing me from really digging into my own conscience. I told myself at the beginning of this year that I would write about something every week, so I'm like... 16 blogs behind myself.

I think it goes without saying that there's quite a lot left that my mind simply doesn't want to share, either with myself or those of you who read my writings. I feel like this cloud of fog exists solely to keep me moving forward, afraid of what would happen if I take the time to really slow down and analyze my own life. I don't think that's healthy. We should fight that urge to bury our thoughts and feelings. The world should hear.

So what is it that I am avoiding? What is it I don't want to think about? I could think of a few things off of the top of my head. 

School. There's this expectation had of me in returning to college in a month. Someone else's dream that I am expected to live. I, by no means, plan on dedicating another season of my life to the dread and angst a classroom brings. Much less for a field in which I have zero interest in pursuing later on in life. My whole family expects me to just... do it. It's a whole mess. Very stressful. I would understand why my mind does not enjoying thinking about it.

Work. I've put in a few applications for advancement within the company I work at. One of which I've actually had an interview for, and I seem to have a good chance at obtaining. It would be a huge leap forward for myself, but would require me leaving behind all of the friends and bonds I've built at my current location. As much as that would suck, I really do hope I get the promotion. 

Relationships. This is a big one. The majority of my previous writings have been about about my relationships or troubles I've had within them. I don't have that sort of drama in my life right now, which does make me wonder - why do I feel like I have so much to write about when it comes to my love life? More importantly, is that lack of vulnerability what results in my doors shutting again? Could the very reason I feel unable to express myself correlate directly to the lack of that bond I have with somebody? More so, why do I suddenly feel the urge to write now, as opposed to any time before?

Well, I think I know. I do know. But you won't, not today. I tend to jinx myself when I share too much.

I feel like it's so much easier for me to write when I'm in a moment of flux. When I feel hurt, the fog just kind of drifts away. It's why the majority of my blogs are based on tension. When that crack starts, it just keeps flowing. 

I think that is why I spend so much of my time unable to process my own thoughts. It is defensive - in a lot of cases, everything is fine. Resurfacing my issues shatters that sense of security. So I can't just pull it out of my back pocket whenever I want, there needs to be a trigger.

I think the scariest part is realizing how much of my identity is wrapped up in tension. Like, who am I when I'm not fighting something? When there's no fire to put out, no heartbreak to dissect, no chaos to process - what's left? It's easier to stay fogged up than admit I don’t fully know that version of myself yet.

Published 07:37 7/23/2025