“If you want to see the stars, you must be willing to travel through the dark.”
Hannah Blum, The Truth About Broken: The Unfixed Version of Self-love
Sometimes the things you love the most are the things that will kill you. I have always lived by the motto, ‘Everything in moderation, including moderation.’ But I’ve realized some point the things I love and obsess over become the things I DO instead of things I could FEEL.
And maybe that’s okay—in moderation. But at some point, we have to put down the paintbrush, keyboard, running shoes, game controller, TV remote, what have you and face the things we’re running away from.
I gotta be honest with my (wonderful) readers, I got a lot of baggage I haven’t processed. When I first started this journey of writing I tackled my demons with abandon, slinging words and phrases at them like a goddamn cowboy. It was freeing, it was fun, and for a while, it worked.
At some point, it stopped freeing me. Then it stopped being fun. And then, I stopped being able to write altogether.
Writing is no longer my savior because I was asking of it something it wasn’t meant to give. It wasn’t meant to be a catch-all for all my darkness, but a fire escape and emergency exit for when it became too much. By trampling through the passageway over and over like a stampede of elephants I damaged what was meant to be cherished and sacred.
I have to face my demons, the right way this time. Head on. Meanwhile, I’m finding new ways to write that are exciting to me, open myself up to new possibilities that I would have been too afraid to tread in the past because it wasn’t safe to do so with the cargo it carried.
For all of you, I wish you courage. To face the things that are on your mind, but that you push away reflexively. Whether they’re big or small, don’t think they aren’t affecting you, or that you will handle it ‘someday, someday.’ Someday is now. Even an inch is better than never, and if you want to be free, you can’t be chained to the things you can’t even turn to within your own mind.