I’m sitting here in awe that I have for once in my lifetime completed something that I began. For the past thirty days I have sat down every day and found a way to express my thoughts, feelings, dreams, and memories. My writing over the past month might not have been that good, but I stuck to it. Some days I had to post two blog posts because I fell behind, but there was inspiration for every single day.
I’m carrying on the #NaBloPoMo challenge throughout the month of December and I hope that I can stay inspired. I’ve noticed that the NaBloPoMo challenge has helped me to be more observant of not just everyone and everything around me, but also of myself as well. A lot of the days that I wrote helped me to release emotions that I would have otherwise tried to push down inside of me. I didn’t have a specific theme in mind when I started the challenge, I just sat down and wrote. And that’s amazingly awesome to me.
In These Moments
All I can do is breathe and believe that everything will eventually be okay. I have been trying to tell myself that I won’t let the anxiety rule me, I refuse to let fear lead me to make bad decisions. I am choosing to stand my ground for what I know is right. I understand the consequences of this choice, but either way, things will work out in the end.
In these moments I try to remember all of the good in my life. I try to surround myself by those that I love and that love me. I try to tell myself that I am okay, that we are okay, that it will all be okay. Sometimes this works, there’s more times that it doesn’t. But still I try.
In these moments I try to stay grounded in the present. I try to be thankful for all that I have, all that I have accomplished, as little and insignificant as it all may seem. I am thankful for my freedom even though sometimes it still feels very much so as though I am still trapped. I know that one day I will truly be free and for that, I am thankful.
In these moments I try to remember that tomorrow is another day. I know the journey isn’t over yet. I still have such a long way to go, but I know I can make it. I’ve already been traveling for so long and I am used to the obstacles that hinder my progress. I will not give up.
In these moments I think of all of this and so much more and try so hard not to let the anxiety overcome me. I won’t deny that there are many days that I pray things will be easier right now instead of having to ride out yet another storm, alas that is not the way of my life.
In these moments I will take life as it comes to me and remember that tomorrow is another day. I will continue to tell myself that in the end everything will be okay and if it’s not okay, it isn’t the end.
All of this daily writing has sparked my creativity. I scroll through my emails and discover an upcoming art challenge by a fellow blogger and decide to sign up for it. I tell a close friend about it who tells me, “You can’t run from it forever.”
I pretend to not know what she’s talking about.
“First it was NanoWrimo, then it was NaBloPoMo, now an art challenge? You’re trying to fill the silence, the emptiness.”
And maybe she’s right. But what business of it is hers?
“You haven’t even drawn anything in forever,” she continues. “You should just stick to your writing. If you take on another project, you’ll end up neglecting your writing.”
I stare at her and wonder if she’s been speaking to my mother. Instead I rummage my closet for one of the many empty and half-empty drawing pads I know I’ve seen laying around. It seems they have all mysteriously disappeared. Instead of taking this as a bad omen as I usually would, I vow to buy a blank one tomorrow after work.
I realize that despite the fact that it’s been a very long time since I’ve drawn anything, I am excited. I know I’m not the worst artist in the world, definitely not the best, but sometimes I luck out and am able to create something. On top of this I have decided to carry on the NaBloPoMo challenge and blog throughout December. And maybe she’s right now that I think about it. Maybe I am trying to fill that emptiness that I can’t explain away. Definitely not silence though. The noise in my mind is far too loud to just write or draw away. My brain won’t stay still for even a moment, the anxiety won’t allow it.
Drinking used to help quiet the roar in my head, but I’ve long since given that up as well. Some days I miss it. Some days I wish for it. Most days I pray I’ll never see another bottle of alcohol again in my lifetime. And so I cling to my writing and decide to rekindle my passion for drawing and absorb myself in my fictional worlds and horror movies and try to convince myself that this isn’t running this is art in the making.
Laying in a ball, the anxiety crushing, the anger building. I’m feeling lost. A fight between doing what I am afraid not to do and what I am told is right, I am leaning towards the fear based option.
These types of decisions are difficult for me. I am too easily frightened by threats because I know all too well how quickly threats can be brought to life, into punishment and pain. I tell myself I need to do the right thing, but what is the right thing?
My head and my heart are at war, always at war. I want to trust and believe that everything will turn out okay but my anxiety will not allow it. I listen to my anxiety too much and my brain tells me it is the truth. I believe things that aren’t happening, things that I dream into existence. I drive myself crazy with these things.
Is it because I am a dreamer? Is it because I’m a writer? Someone close to me once told me that my imagination gets away from me because I spend too much time in my head. Maybe this is true but at least if this is truly the case I have no one to blame but myself.
Mine is but a chirp in a crowd of screams. My face, hidden in a sea of faces, drowning as we ebb and flow as one. My voice has grown hoarse and my throat is raw. I cannot see the shore any longer and my arms grow tired from treading. With every new wave I swallow down a little more water, the salt begins to taste like blood and I cannot catch my breath. I am drowning.
My arms and legs are growing so weary, I am losing my strength. My legs are stretching, trying to touch the bottom but instead my toes brush against something slick. I’m waiting for a savior.
I know the storm is coming. I turn my face up to the skies and watch the dark clouds rolling in. It’s like a time lapse, moving quickly but in frames. I am mesmerized. I cannot look away as the lightning crashes and the sky is illuminated. I wonder what is beyond those clouds and I wonder if today will be the day I find out.
And suddenly there is a man before me and he reaches his hand out to me and tells me he will save me but it must be my decision and mine alone. His eyes are so familiar and he tells me he has loved me for a thousand years and a thousand more before that and all I need to do now is to take his hand. But my arms are so heavy, I’m slowly sinking. I pray for relief.
I try to convince myself that even if I do resurface, even if I make it through this, is it worth it? I’ve been trying my best to stay afloat for so long and even when the storm passes I know there will be another one and another one after that. There are always storms and I cannot seek shelter. I face the storm alone as bravely as I can and after awhile the salt water shows me illusions that are so beautiful. I feel my muscles start to relax as my mind convinces me that all is well and I slowly start to sink. I am so tired but I cannot let go. I cannot give up. I must hold on just a little while longer. I pray for the sun to come out and I know it will if I am just patient.