Even if No One Listens, I Have a Voice.

     For as much as I see myself as a writer, I have written less and less over the years. Not because I have had less to say, but because I am accustomed to allowing myself the indulgence of excuses: I don't have time; I'm inadequate; who would even read it anyway; I don't have anything original to say; I love writing but I doubt I'm good enough to actually do anything with my work; my husband's the Writer (with a capital W), I just like to write; etc. etc. etc.

[Ironically, I wrote this several days ago, prior to watching "The Wife" last night with a friend. I feel validated; reinforced and inspired. A writer must write.]

     Enough. Enough excuses, enough self-deprecation, enough "sidelines and back burners, top shelves and bottom of lists." I no longer have the time to not have time. I no longer have the stomach for this self-defeating mentality and am done perpetuating the self-destructive pattern of denial and minimization.

     Because no matter what - no matter the audience, or lack thereof; no matter the talent, or lack thereof; it's not about that, and it doesn't actually matter if I fail to live up to my self-imposed standard because it's not about that either. I am a writer. It's not something I do, it's something I am. It's part of what makes me, ME. I've been a writer since I could write. And you know what? I like me. I want to be me. And you know what...? That's enough.

     Even if no one listens, I have a voice. Even if no one reads, I must write.

When I feel most lost, homesick, defeated, hopeless, I want to write. Like it's a lifeline. Like it's survival.

I'm not a great writer; not even a good one. But the sense that writing is a primary purpose and need, hardwired into who I am on the most basic level, is one I am never able to shake.

It is one of the few things I can turn to when facing a decision I don't feel I can make, or a challenge too overwhelming to even think about tackling. I don't know if it helps, but I guess for a moment I am in control of something. Even if it's just rambling, pointless words on a screen.

Sometimes I think my whole focus for my life has been incorrect...my dreams and goals not what I'm meant to do; even my realistic choices made all wrong. I feel as though I'm turned inside-out, and so utterly tangled, I don't even know if there's any point in attempting to make sense of the chaos or unravel the confusion.