This past couple weeks for me have been completely mired in un-success. I’ve been trying to put out something for the blog for a while now but apparently I’ve got a bad case of writer’s block.
This is coming off the back of what was probably my most productive week for the blog since the 12 days of anime, so that made the blockage feel that much worse. As an attempt to shake off the rust, I tried writing a response to Haruhi’s vocabularistic challenge at the end of her excellent post, but that too ended with a mountain of crumbled virtual paper. I either can’t seem to find the words quickly enough or my brain decides that this particular configuration of words is far too garbage, personal, or uninteresting to continue.
There’s something about the written word that puts me on edge. It’s a little strange for me to say that after all that I’ve done on this blog and otherwise, but it’s true. For the first month of this blog’s existence, there was only a single post – “A New Line”. The cause of that is probably what’s also keeping me away from writing now. More than just a fear of engagement, I’ve got a fear of the power that comes with the written word.
This comes in two flavors, the first of which relates to the way that you, my dear reader/follower, receives my brand of black text on white background.
Every word that’s spoken, every sentence typed, has impact. There’s a kind of permanence that comes with transmitting your thoughts, feelings, or opinions that can’t, by definition, be removed. This comes with my pseudo-critical seasonal impressions posts, my personal stuff, and every tweet I’ve ever made. Every character in every line has fired some synapses in someone’s brain as long as they’ve seen it. The impression leftover is what shapes the way that you, interact or think about me – and that scares the hell out of me. Let me be clear, for the anonymous reader, this is usually fine, but for the people that I respect the most – I get a little weak in the knees. I’d like to present a competent, normal-ish, or at the very least socially functional version of me to the people I want to interact with (and I realize that this kind of post definitely isn’t helping), but it’s a little hard. So more often than not, I say nothing; I wouldn’t be surprised if this post never saw the light of day. And that means that I fade into the background – a regression back to Lurker B on the Twitters.
And this kind of rumination leads to the second flavor of my weird phobia – the acknowledgement of weakness. I’ve found that putting anything to words gives them life in a way like no other. Verbalizing my internal conflicts or unpleasant emotions brings them into reality, giving them power and making things feel horribly dismal. After taking up writing over the last almost 6 months, I’ve found myself spinning my wheels in thought cycles that take up entirely too much of my time. It’s like once I’ve found a way to phrase my feelings, I needed to get them out. And as you’d imagine, being surrounded by this kind of stuff is not the most uplifting thing.
And to add to all this, I really hate complaining about my problems. It feels like a bit of a sympathy grab and probably puts a damper on people’s day. I sincerely apologize for that, by the way.
I love writing and often enough, it gives me a kind of confidence that I can’t find anywhere else. So I want to continue and I know I will, but there’s more than a couple wrinkles that I need to iron out as a person before I can comfortably write like the rest of the ani-blogging folk.
If a dictionary was all it took to ferry me through these stormy seas, I’d be in Hawaii by now. But since it’s not, I’ll settle with time.
Thanks for listening,