The demons in my words

When I started this blog I did it for me. To air out my thoughts and practise my writing. The problem is more and more I’m scared to write. I feel like I did as a teenager when the contents of my mind felt too heavy for my shoulders, so I couldn’t bare to add that extra pressure to an already overloaded world. Even voicing my thoughts felt I was shaping them into a real life demon as my mouth formed the words. So imagine now, as I get more and more used to putting my thoughts in paper, how scary the idea is if giving these demons a permanent home in my safe haven of writing. Because if it want clear, the dark side of my brain can be pretty scary.

The problem is, the less I write, the more it builds. The more it builds the more I need to talk. And I seem to have cultivated a situation where I don’t know where to go to talk. I think again, it comes back to not wanting to talk out loud in case it all becomes a bit too real. Even if I had anywhere to go.

Now, if you’ve read any of my blogs before you’ll notice I’m a bit of a head on, straight up kind of person. I don’t like hiding from my problems, maybe because I’m all too familiar with how that doesn’t work. I isolate and self sabotage and everything else that comes with that fun game of collecting countless crates of bottled up emotions. I know myself well enough to know I have to deal with the dark and twisty way my brain is moving right now. Something always stops me… what if I can’t handle it? What if this isn’t a fight I’m meant to win after all?

Either way, what do I do with all of this. If I talk, people worry. If I write, people want to talk. Above all I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be that friend who no one wants around, I feel alone enough already. People don’t want miserable people around. Sad, but true. They want the Kim who’s life of the party and up for anything. Even writing this feels like a pity party. To be clear, it isn’t. That’s the entire point actually, I don’t know what to do because I don’t want people to worry. When I started writing this, it was just for me. So now if I can’t write freely, what’s left?

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