Why can't I write... Shut up Rob, just sit down and write

Recurring theme, isn't it? Anyone that reads my blog knows what sort of writers block I have had over the past few years. Depression and anxiety go hand in hand with my inability to write. Which is really a shame, because writing is the one thing that truly makes me feel whole. It's the only thing that just strips away all the pain and hurt and insecurity, and just lets my mind fly. More than sex, or love, or poker, or cooking, or anything else that I enjoy. Writing is what does it. All I can think of is that my mind subconsciously wants to hurt. Or doesn't think I deserve happiness. Whatever it is, I need to overcome my writer's block, because the stagnation that I feel right now is killing me.

I always make these proclamations that I'm going to try and write more. I want to, but getting my mind and body to coordinate long enough to get me in front of the computer and actually sitting down to write seems like a Sisyphean task. Every day the weight gets heavier, and the mental block gets larger. But honestly, the words never fail to materialize once I'm here. Once my hands are on the keyboard, the words come. It's just getting myself to sit here, to place my hands upon the keyboard, to look at the monitor and type.

I feel good tonight. It's the first night in a long time, the first night not shrouded in the darkness and fog of depression. So, of course, the words choose tonight to come. I need them less tonight, but it still feels good. It still gives hope, and calms my soul. Now, if I can just materialize this energy tomorrow, or the next day, and then again this week or next...

I have so many things that I want to say, but tonight is just about the process. Tonight is just saying, "Hello world, I'm back, even if only for tonight."

I don't ask for help. Part of that is my upbringing, and part of that is my stubbornness, and part of that is not knowing how. I'm hurting right now, and I wouldn't know how to ask for help even if there was something that anyone could do. Just know that those of you who actually read this blog, who read the inner ramblings of my mind, even when it's just a few paragraphs about depression and writer's block, know that I love you for it. Thank you for your time, because if you can take the time to read this, you have taken the time to care. It doesn't matter if there's nothing else that you can do. And you don't need to tell me, because there really isn't anything else that you can do. You care enough to read, and that's good enough for me.

I will do my best to continue to write.

Much love.

R