Monday, January 30, 2012

And That's Why I Blog

Lately, I find myself saying things like: "I can't take much more" or "I can't do this, I just can't".

Sometimes I say that I am afraid that "once I start crying, I won't be able to stop."

I talk about my aching heart and say that I feel as though the pain will break it in half.

I thought about how abstract those phrases are.  How illogical they are and how that they don't make a whole lot of sense.

That's when I do my self talk. It goes something like this:

"Come on now, you realize that your human spirit is capable of taking more, probably a lot more.  Saying you can't take it isn't what you really mean, now is it?   Come on now, you know what you are really trying to say.  Yes, that's right, it isn't that you can't take any more, it's that you don't want to take anymore.  You want a little break from it.  Isn't that what you really mean?  Yes, I thought so."

"And tell the truth now,  instead of shaking off your sadness, how do think it would feel if you grabbed it, and pulled it up over your head.  Why not let it engulf you and curl up in a ball and just be with it?  That just might be comforting, don't you think? "

"Your heart is strong, you know it is.  Yes, the pain is there and yes it is real.  But, don't worry, it won't really break. The pain will be there for a long while and after all isn't that what you really want?  You know that you don't want it to go away because you are afraid that if the pain goes away, Joey will disappear with it.  That's what you are really afraid of isn't?"

And that's why I blog, and that's why I write. I sort out my thoughts and explore my feelings.
Sometimes it keeps me from crying because if I start  I am afraid I will never stop.

Here is today's entry from Anna's diary:

Wed. January 30 1929
Brought Elsie down town in the car.  She bought a few small Chinese rugs.  I bought a banjo clock for a gift to Lucietta.  Met the Arlington girls for bridge at Jules.


  1. My heart is broken for your heart.

  2. Yes, it has taken me a while to be able to set aside feelings of conflict when I post sad pieces.  I began to post, simply as a means of expressing myself more completely, with no thought as to whom it was that might read it.  If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there, does it make a noise?

    Now I have to debate with myself whether or not to post something that is likely to sadden the reader, and I lose the debate every time to the philosophy that no one has to read more than a sentence or two, before moving on to brighter posts.  My feelings are in no way, shape or form, hurt.  That is a given.  I cannot produce warm and fuzzy, when my soul is aching.  By the same token, I am much more expansive in my ability to empathize.  And according to my scoresheet, Lynda, you still have the tougher climb.  Just maybe, not as steep as it was a few scant weeks ago.  Maybe yes, maybe no, could be just, maybe so.

  3. Writing is truly magic in the way that it can lead us through our thoughts and feelings in a way that nothing (or little) else can. I have lost track of the number of "talks" like this I have had with myself. At the end of which, things make the tiniest bit more sense than when I started and that tiny bit makes all the difference some days. Thanks for sharing with us all, as always. 

  4. Thank you.  And I do believe that is just what my heart must look like right now. 

  5.  I sometimes foolishly suffer from delusions of grandeur.  You know, ahh, my readership, my audience.  
    Kind of silly, heh?  Yes, most of last night's post was strictly for me.  But why not write those thoughts down on a piece of paper to be hidden or thrown away?   
     I know that my writing has helped me to recognize and identify my feelings.  But your comment made me realize something that I had not thought of.  Sharing on such a personal level has also helped me to recognize and identify with the feelings of others.

  6. Yes, sometimes my self talks are like listening to a broken record.  The same phrases over and over.   Writing about those thoughts and feelings kind of put them to rest for just a little while.