I’m unsure what I am scared of when I begin thinking of blogging. Right before I sit down to actually start blogging, I am explosive with ideas, excited with motivation, and optimistic about the end result of my blog post. But, once I open up my WordPress and begin typing… bam. Scared. Afraid. Confused. Unconfident. What’s wrong with me? I have no idea. However, I do know one thing: today, I had some sort of “awakening,” “enlightenment,” when I read a Forbes article on Frances Bridges.
Bridges, who is older than me, is a contributor for Forbes. The first thing I did after reading about her was check out her blog. Her blog wasn’t specified, it was just some rantings, some reporting, some venting. I thought to myself, “what the fuck is wrong with me?” Why can’t I just do that? Why do I need to come up with a concrete idea, instead I should just be WRITING, and the ideas will then begin flowing and perhaps, I will come up with SOMETHING. I don’t know what I have been waiting for, but I am pretty angry at myself for bumming around and putting everything and everyone before ME.
There is no worse feeling than continuously doing things that you would rather not be doing, and being constantly reminded that there’s something else you should be and rather would be doing. I am pretty ashamed, with regret, that since I have graduated (3 months) I haven’t accomplished much, except learn how to apply for jobs better. What the fuck is that, really? If anything, it’s pretty sad I didn’t know how to “properly” apply for jobs earlier.
Anyways, I asked God during Ramadan to give me focus, and I guess there is some focus coming on. Of course, the regret is immense, but there is some focus coming up. What I can’t shrug off are my distractions. I guess one of the biggest/perhaps ONLY reasons I can’t get my “shit together” is because I am distracted. With family problems, helping my mom out with all the shit that is going on, romancing with a boy, and making plans with my friends. It’s pretty fucking sad and I should really do something about it. As a journalist/writer, I don’t have time to waste. I’m going to be 22 next month and I really, really need to find some focus and figure out what the hell it is that is going on with me, find my road to my happiness. I guess I have been feeling so awful lately is because I am a writer. The truth is, just because I’m not writing does not mean that I’m not a writer, as per my previous post. What I’ve realized is that one of the surest ways to know that you’re a writer, despite not knowing what you love/excel in writing about, is the feeling you get when you’re not writing. It has been hell. Whether it has been writer’s block, distractions, lack of motivation, lack of focus and confidence—if you feel like shit, you know that that is something you WANT to be doing, from the bottom of your heart.
I have arrived at Step 1 towards my goals—I’ve begun to slightly forgive myself. By realizing that yes, I do want to write, after all. Yes, I haven’t written anything in such a long time and I have been constantly reminding myself about it, beating myself over it, and messing up everything in the book because of it. Therefore, I must love it.
If you’re feeling angry, regretful, incomplete, in yearning, without something, or maybe even someone, then it must be love after all, isn’t it?