Inspire Me

There's this idea in my head that I have to get inspired before I can write. And not that I don't have ideas or faith in my writing, but there's a very familiar idea and feeling that comes about when I just can't not write. I can't. I have to. And so I look for that. I long for that. I find blogs with good writing and I go to them to get me in the mood, to get the creative juices flowing, and I guess to feel a little less self-conscience, because if there are others out there also writing about their feelings as much as I do, and in a similar way as I do, then I can tell myself to not be embarrassed, but to get it out there. If I so enjoy reading others blogs, then someone out there must enjoy reading my blog as well. That's my logic anyway.

Well, I don't have that inspiration today. I don't have words inside my head aching to be pushed out of my fingertips, I just have the feeling of weight inside that really can only be lightened by writing.

My last post dealt with ditching therapy and the general hopelessness of ever feeling any better or overcoming the demons of my past. That didn't go away. Not really. I spent some time alone on Friday night, and I needed it, but it hurt me. Oh, it hurt me. It was good at first. It was great at first. I could put down the walls I don't even realize are up around me because there's no one for them to be there for and that feels so good, but once they're down, I realize what's underneath them, and on Friday, it was pain. It was pain that was underneath them. So it came out and it was too much for me. Old desires and demons came out.