Searching for Significance.........

Writing has always been a huge part of my life. From early on I used creative writing and journalling to express myself and to get through rough periods. A few years ago I decided to try blog therapy. I had read about it and it seemed like a good idea--a new spin on something that I've always done. Unfortunately labeling and trying to define my writing had an adverse affect psychologically. Suddenly I was questioning whether or not it was really a helpful tool or if I was setting myself up for harsh judgment. Putting yourself out there is always a risk. A few people were reading my blog and claimed that they found it helpful. Although the feedback was encouraging I was having trouble articulating my thoughts. In the past I would start typing whatever came to mind with little or no thought to what I was saying. Most of the time I would type until I felt I was finished and then send it out into the world without rereading what I wrote. It became harder and harder to do that.  I felt that I needed to revise and edit my writing in order to explain myself so that I didn't sound like a complete lunatic. Most of my writing attempts were deleted because I felt they were silly and insignificant. This of course meant that my feelings were silly and insignificant.

Months went by and soon I felt that I had an incurable case of writer's block. I was depressed and having issues with anxiety so I started seeing an actual therapist. At first therapy seemed like a good idea. I was feeling okay about myself and was able to voice my deepest secrets and biggest regrets. Once spoken out loud it seemed they really were kind of stupid in the grand scheme of things--yes--silly and insignificant! The realization that the skeletons in my closet were all pretty common and mundane was a relief, but also made me feel like I wasted years worrying about them. The more the therapist downplayed my feelings the more I began to resent him. I love most everyone and actually do like my therapist but I felt that he was missing some element that kept him from truly understanding me. I guess it wasn't really his job to understand me but I wanted him to. In my mind the therapist became the bad guy. He made me look at myself from a different perspective and I found myself sorely lacking any kind of significance whatsoever. It wasn't his intention, but it is how my brain decided to interpret our sessions. I felt judged by the person that I was paying to not judge me. Maybe getting me to step outside of my comfort zone and to see myself in a different light was his job. Maybe he did exactly what he needed to to get me to make changes. Maybe traditional therapy isn't for me.

Since my deepest secrets, fears and inner demons all seem silly and insignificant all should be fine with me and I should be living happily ever after. Not so much. I am still stuck in some sort of slow motion funk where I can't seem to stop chasing my own tail. I've become a hermit who feels awkward in social situations. My personality seems to be changing and I am genuinely perplexed. It takes every amount of energy that I have to get myself to go out into the world and socialize with family and friends. I used to love being busy~I loved meeting new people and experiencing new things. These days I prefer to stay home in yoga pants and work on genealogy or other projects around the house. I have a lot of projects to keep me busy. I could probably stay locked up for months and not run out of things to do. It is so tempting.......

 I wake up each morning and tell myself that the fog in my brain needs to lift and I need to tackle my "to do" list. I end up feeling like I'm wading through molasses--I am on a super slow speed and I can't accomplish a third of what I want to in a day. Maybe I'm stressing about it all too much and need to be happy accomplishing anything at all. Maybe this is natures way of telling me that I was stuck on fast forward for too long. If this is all part of aging, it sucks. I believe it is a mindset though. I know 80 year olds who have more energy than me. I need to suck it up and change my way of thinking.

 Maybe writing will help. I need to sit here at the computer and just let all of those silly and insignificant thoughts flow out. Maybe someone will see the significance of a certain phrase. Maybe other people are experiencing strange changes in their behavior and my writing will help. Maybe I'm not a lunatic. Writing is a great form of therapy since I don't have anyone stopping me to ask me questions or ask me "how did that make you feel?" The therapist did make me see my potential. He just made me feel like I was selling myself short and pissing it away somehow. My lack of self-confidence and bouts with depression are excuses. Fear of failure keeps me stuck in place. Knowledge is great, but figuring out what to do with the knowledge is a whole other matter.

I do have a tendency to completely over think every situation. Maybe I just need to relax and ride this out. There are different seasons in our lives and this is just a transition into that dreaded middle age. If I embrace it and look at the positive side of it I'm sure my perspective will change. Slowing down is not a bad thing as long as I don't come to a complete stop. During this lull maybe I will finally find a job that I enjoy. The search for the right job seems to be never ending. Of course I need a bit of confidence so that I don't set myself up for failure. It is time to start writing again and to start having a deeper appreciation for all that I do have. If I look at things with a different attitude I will see that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. I also need to remember that my family and friends love me---that in itself is very significant.