Posted in Daily Prompt

Nerves Aside

Release me

Tell us about the blog post you were most nervous to publish — and what it was like to set it free

Source:  https://dailypost.wordpress.com/postaday/ebook-365-writing-prompts/

I can not remember the first post that I nearly had a panic attack over but the ones that continue to worry me are the really personal ones about my abuse etc.  I am learning to share these pieces of my life rather than leave them huddled inside my brain, camouflaged so that even I can never fully see what is there.  But, I worry about being judged, which I think is because I judge myself so often.  I was living so much in the past that it opened up the opportunity to judge what my younger self did in order to survive.

I am not sure that I ever feel like it is setting something free.  It is more like slowly opening a creaking door, with something oozing our of the opening and making a run for freedom of expression.   It is like my inner self is encrusted in hardened material, each piece melded to the whole and now being gently pried off and examined individually.  The reason being to understand each of those pieces, individually and in combination, to understand how it helped form who I am.   But also to uncover the ‘self’ hidden below the crust.

I find it easiest to write intimate details in poetry or cloaked in short stories or fables.  That gives me the distance I need to accept what I have written and why.  I still struggle to read accounts of rape or abuse, even my own.  It is like my brain writes them but my brain isn’t reading them. I can be surprised by what I write.  I have to make myself re read the poetry and really look at what I was thinking and feeling then.

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Author:

I was 46 years old when I begun this blog, female and married with a house full of cats (7). My past is littered with the impact of events that happened when I was a teen. Two loves of my life have been nursing and studying. I just completed my Master of Arts: Media Studies endorsement. My blog will be about the things I think about, that might be better served being written rather than squirreled away in my mind festering. It is the meanderings of my mind as I seek to define myself and my world.

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