12:11 pm
I just got done listening to the NPR hourly news broadcast, and it was nothing but reports on death and destruction.
The Morning Edition show is all about coronavirus, each story having its unique, terrible angle.
When I troll through my Apple news feed, the stories bring to life, literally, death, destruction, and in general, a sense of anxiety toward the people, places, and things in this world.
When I go on this blog, I write (and read) posts about life, drinking, sobriety–the underlying constant being struggle, rumination, darkness (albeit, a darkness-turned-light). I mean, there is this thing called a pandemic, and there is this thing called human nature, the human experience–none of it is easy! And, there IS light in sobriety (which has been born of dark days, for all of us). However, I (we?) tend to usually write about the struggle to out-think addiction and mental health disorders so that I (we?) can see and feel and breathe in that light. One day.
I am just tired of it all, in the best way possible, I guess. I have spent eight years writing about the darkness–the ruminative thinking that perpetuates the darkness. WHAT IF…I stopped breeding more darkness by simply stopping the thinking, stopping the writing about it all? By focusing more on the forest not the trees, on things that are not enveloped in the dark shadows of ego-centric thinking, the twists and turns that bind and trap my mind?
I know this to be true: while daily journaling helps me process my reality and stay sane (100% true, which is why I can’t quit it), I wonder if I am just giving shape and form to dark thoughts and thought patterns–unnecessarily and to my detriment? In other words, I am not sure if journaling is healthy–or, if it just makes me more pensive; at the very least, if it just brings to light smoldering pre-thoughts that should really just die there, in the rustling, restless dirt patch of my neurotic mind.
Is writing about it making it worse? Or, should I continue on, living the whole “the unexamined life is not worth living” thing?
I’d like to somehow move on from this process, but to give it up? I am not sure how I’d function, for real, without my daily journaling (and, I guess this includes blogging here). I have been longing for some time for an emptier mind–maybe like a white-walled room, or a beach with no movement on the water–emptier than one that has been purposefully splashed with stark, contrasting colors or toed up to make the water murky with sand.
I don’t know; I have been wondering for years, is this writing about it all the time making it better or worse, and I have to conclude: only I can make that call, decide to carry on or cancel the show. And, I have to trust my judgment–and ignore the fear of missing out, or of being forgotten–instead of relying on anyone else’s say in the matter. No one is going to tell me what to do, so, I have to go with my gut (my gut always comes running back to writing it all down, though).
In the end, this is one of those things that made me drink, made me drink alcoholically; it is, in a way, part of my addiction as much as it is part of who I am and who I have grown up to be. I have always been overly thoughtful and more than a little self-conscious; it’s good for a writer, but bad for a human. I guess the answer lies in understanding oneself and finding the balance…
Three weeks off Facebook coming up, and I swear, I do not miss it at all. I SO do not miss keeping up with my “friends,” which makes me wonder a bit about myself, but mainly, gives me a huge sense of relief and solace that I could so easily just let the whole thing go… I get my news elsewhere, and eh, I don’t think I necessarily need to reconnect with my professional groups, though, I know I will want to one day soon. Till then, I am happy in my bubble of not knowing; I think it’s time to focus that energy on myself and my projects and goals (to finally start meditating? haha).
Ironically, just a post as food for thought (or, shall I say, food for not-thought?)!
Drunky Drunk Girl 