When Ideas just STOP

Blogging at the beginning, back in February, was addictive and challenging.  There was not enough time in the day to entertainingly attack all the thoughts and observances that had compiled over my 50-some years.

Then writing established a bit of a rhythm or routine.  Ideas built up and then they would just kind of come together over the course of a few days and the words would start to awkwardly flow, summed up by photos.

I have written a post about "Blah Blah Blahging - What To Do When You Don't Have a Clue".  That was  inspired by simultaneous periods when there is a lull in life events and when I suffer from a temporarily under active imagination.  These dry spell blogging cramps seem to pass.

So now I have reached a new chapter in writing.  What happens in blogging when there is just too much life going on all at once.  What do you do when you feel blind-sided by trauma.  I found it is not so much a writer's block as it is a massive freeze.  There is just  no way to even begin to write with any organization on the shit storm that has become our new normal. Such has been this summer.

Relaying my personal and family circumstances would not only be self absorbed, but it might also in some way imply that my present situation is more serious or unfortunate than those of others.  As my dear friends and I have coined "Everyone has Shit".  I am also a private person, though this may seem less than obvious, given that I open my life and the lives of my family to a weekly blog.  I have decided to keep my current "Shit" to myself.  However I am not intending to make my life sound in any way mysterious.   Let's just agree that life often hits with sickness and death, chronic debilitating illness, heartbreaks, mourning and the plight to "move on".  Small differences seem ridiculous.  Every day annoyances become laughable.  It becomes at times "every man for himself'" and we just hold on and shut our eyes.

So now I struggle to continue to express myself through my writing, when I am writing from an unpleasant place in my head.  I still look at the glass half full and all that, I just have an edge that I did not feel before. Such happens to all of us when we get bombarded from all sides.  It is a time to rest and recover.  I felt until tonight that recovery would not include this blog, but apparently I can and would still like to write.  How else is all this stuff going to come out.  It needs somewhere to land.


So I have finally accepted, as I sit in relative isolation and my brain recovers from running around and around in a circle, that I actually have almost no control over anything that is happening right now.  Following from that, if there is nothing I can do to alter life events, perhaps there is benefit in writing.  Whether there is benefit in reading is your decision.  I questioned a fellow blogger for her opinion on post-trauma writing. Does it happen?  She reassured me that it does, but I had my doubts. I wasn't thinking like a writer at all these past 6 weeks.  I didn't feel I could put together more than "thank you for coming".

But then it happened.  In the midst of craziness at all angles, I was at the bank trying to explain away a financial hiccup which was growing into belch.  I knew my blogging days were not over.  I was knee deep in the thick of it all and I saw this posting.  I knew I would store it up for later when I had a chance to sit back and review.  I am not at the review spot, but I am at the sit back spot.  So just to give you a glimpse of the old me:

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???