It’s been a very humbling, and slightly depressing night.
So much so that I am unable to sleep, getting anxious, and am unsure with what to do with myself. So I told myself, “Hey, maybe write some shit, maybe? And maybe, it’ll help.”. So here I lay, feeling like absolute hell, at some ungodly hour in the morning. Just trying to vomit some thoughts and feelings somewhere so I can finally cross off “WRITE SHIT THIS WEEK.” in my planner.
…and with that….
A few weeks ago, my brother lost his best friend unexpectedly. To say that it has been hard on not only him, but a shit load of us who loved the guy, is a complete fucking understatement.
There’s a lot of horrible people in this world, and thankfully I can say my one and only sibling is not one of them.
He’s shed his tears, but he also has put his feelings aside to help with the aftermath, and be there for anyone else who needed a friend or just a hug right now. I see his selflessness time and time again, and I learn from it. His love for people has made me want to be like him, to be there when others need to be lifted up and know that someone cares and shit is going to be o.k. That is an amazing trait to have, and he is an amazing person, and I know he will get through this, somehow.
But what happened is really just a side note of why I’m writing right now, sadly.
I could go on and on, but I think the grittier stuff is best saved for another day, or maybe even another forum. I had just initially delved deeper into some things about myself and my family, but half way through this I’ve decided to self-edit (anxiety is the best!) and keep some of that for another time, if at all. Writing about family, and writing about this is tough. Tough is good when your trying to sort your bullshit out when nobody is around to talk to. (I’d fix the font that I messed up, but that is definitely something I give zero shits about, sorry!)
Here is the problem with what I want to do with my life. I love to write, I LOVE TO WRITE. But like a lot of people, I hate being judged by my words or thoughts. I’m not sure what it is, but sometimes I have a really hard time expressing myself without rambling, like I am now. I hate looking at my words and thinking they aren’t good enough, that I could have said more.
Or, I could have said less. Or that I hurt someone’s feelings. I am an incredibly open person. I love to talk, and I love people in general. When it comes to the vast majority of humans, I rarely care what is thought of me in terms of how I look, dress, act. When it comes to writing, and weirdly enough, writing online? I pump the brakes madly. I all of a sudden question the person I am. Wait a minute Ginger, why do you care? Do people’s emotions affect me that much? Depends, but rather than focusing on my own thoughts, I have a problem with worrying about everyone else’s first.
Just like my brother.
So maybe my brother and the events today really aren’t a side-note to this. Maybe they really are helping me in the way I need to be helped. To be uncensored, and unafraid, and to embrace my words because they are MINE and god dammit, censoring myself isn’t helping me with jack shit in the long run.
I’m still not sure what I want to write about in general career-wise. Ideally, it’d be everything, including day to day things. It doesn’t have to be mind-blowing, even thought that would be nice from time to time. Writing is really therapeutic, I wish more people did it instead of holding their thoughts in. I’ve only slowly started sharing my words with others, hoping if it isn’t helping me, maybe it helped someone. I can go to sleep knowing that I tried, and it’s because I wanted to. Not because I had to.
I am beginning to just be okay with people reading all this nuttiness, and trying not to worry what others think. Hopefully soon I can try to put to words exactly who I am, and how I work, instead of comparing myself to others.
**ANYWAYS, I literally could go on and on, and one day will.
If you made it this far, congratulations. I would go back and read it, but then I’ll just change it all or delete it out of fear of rejection. Which I’ve been tempted to do several times already.
We are our own worst enemies.