I have watched the Supergirl go to and graduate from preschool. The baby chickens of last summer have had (and subsequently lost) chicks of their own.
My writing has changed.
I am scared to write of the daily tribulations of being a mom to a rambunctious, curious, and (oftentimes) irritating 5 year old because one friend will never see her baby be a 5 year old and the other mourns the loss of those days. I am scared to write about my fears of losing my job, because so many people in my life have lost their jobs lately and they were not having performance issues (no matter the cause, my performance had deteriorated). I am scared to write of the marital issues, the pain and the hurt, the distrust and the anger, when so many that I love dearly long to find that special person and here I was just throwing it away like it is all just inconsequential.
I am scared to write of the realities of what my life has been this year, because I don't want anyone I care about to be hurt anymore than they have been.
Which leaves me stuck, stuck in a world where my words fight against my skin, aching to be let out, released, and my mind continually shuts them down, forcing me to keep them all bottled up inside.
I need to write so that I can be healthy. I need to write so that I am not carrying it all on the inside. I need to write so that I can make sense of so many things that have happened.
So, I write scared. I pray that my words will not inflict pain on those who already are bearing more than their share, I pray that they will find their intended audience and that the correct tone will carry through the screen and into the brains of the three of you reading this. I pray that as the words tumble from my fingertips, that I will be understood (as much as anyone can understand me).
And maybe, one day, I can go back to writing without the fear.
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