Return to a fix

In the past several days I've managed to almost forget about my blog. In the process, however, I think I forgot myself as well - and the kind of person I am.

I've lost a lot in the past couple days. A sense of security, the feeling of being loved, some of my hope for the future. I fought to keep these things, but in the end sometimes you must give things away in order to grow.

The reason I started this blog over a year ago - and the reason I used it to record a stream of consciousness every day for 366 straight evenings - was that I needed to let out my emotions. I used it as an outlet for things I had pent up, for concerns I had. It got me through a few losses just like this one, in fact it was born out of one. And it helped.

I love my blog. Even though it has turned around and bitten me in the bum a couple of times, when I think on all that I've done for myself in practicing my writing for an entire year and just for my own pleasure, I feel proud. If I haven't accomplished anything this whole year, at least I can say I've done something consistent, something good for my soul.

In a way I think I've started neglecting my blog at the same time that I started neglecting myself and the ones I loved. Once we assume we're happy - in a relationship, in friendships, with family, etc. - we stop thinking it's necessary to write down our emotions.

But humans are fickle creatures. We are always filled to the brim with concerns. Our lives are never as simple as we'd like them to be. Even when we're babies our brains are working a mile a minute to calculate and memorize as much information as possible. Once we're older that energy is transposed into an effort to consolidate information and make sense of it. Everything has to be reorganized until it makes sense. If it doesn't make sense, we flip out.

Or at least, that's my way.

It's something I've grappled with for years - the feeling that I needed to fix things constantly, to check that everything is okay at any point in time. I have to make sense of everything and I don't just let go and live carefree, even if I like to believe I possess some degree of openness, of optimism.

Everyone has pent-up angst/aggression/what-have-you. We are all dealing with our own troubles, our own emotions, the feelings that bother us even when we know it's irrational. And we all have our own outlets.

Some people are self-destructive, others lay their unhappiness on others, some resort to more serious choices (physical harm or otherwise) to deal with their stress. I've always been some combination of the first two.

My blog helped me out of that state. Instead of unloading my fears onto my own heart or the hearts of others, I put it on the conscience of this imaginary person - The Songs of Spring. She - apparently my blog is female, hopefully this isn't incongruous with some gender I've given him/her in the past - isn't a "person" I have to worry about. I never need worry I'm being too hard on her. I can be open, I can share too much sometimes. I can reach catharsis without any visible detriment to the world.

I wish I'd never abandoned her. Because as fulfilling as it may seem to have someone nearby who will help you through your problems, sometimes the best medicine is the kind you alone can prescribe - the words you can set down on paper (or in a blog) and then let work themselves out.

If I had known the unnecessary toll I could take on someone else by making them worry about my own shtick, I'd never have unloaded anything in the first place.

So I'm returning to my blog. Maybe not every day for 365 days into 2014, but certainly throughout the process of healing myself. I grew dependent on having this blog in 2012 and while that worried me about a month ago - and made me justify why it made sense to stop writing - I realize that decision was rash. It was my blog, in fact, that was keeping me sane.

We all have our vices. Mine happens to be that I share my feelings a bit too freely. It's not out of spite, nor vindictiveness. I never have the design of hurting anyone. I want you to know that.

I figured out this evening that the best place to express my feelings might just be on a blog site that only a few people will ever read.

I never mean to burden anyone with my problems. I never mean to hurt or pain anyone with them. I just mean to share - maybe to help myself (when possible), and hopefully along the way I can bring clarity to others who face the same problems I do.

This blog is a place where you have the choice to read about my problems, or my thoughts (they needn't be negative all the time - I'm not a negative person at heart). You don't have to, though. If you do, I hope it won't make you resent me, but serve as proof that you're not alone. We're not alone. Everyone deals with sadness, loss, pain, anger, distress and utter defeat. If we can find a way to share those feelings without bringing down others or ourselves, then that is truly the best thing we can do.

That's what I want to do here, now.