I Have to Write!

You read that title right, I am discovering that I literally have to write.  I started writing around age 15 as a means to express, cope, understand myself and say the things that I didn't understand or know how to say verbally.  I wrote for a while, usually through poetry and journalling, but somewhere over the past 7 year it became less and less until it was almost non-existent.  I have honestly been thinking about it for years ,months and weeks at a time.  It wakes me up in the night, the urge to write nudges me at my son's nap time. Before bed sometimes it creeps up on me.  I have been avoiding one thing that I know will help me to express myself and tell stories that I want to tell, and that need to be told maybe not for other sake, but at least for mine.  I have crafted a newly designed blog in my head and on paper many times.  I've written many "1st" new blog entires in my journal which I have intended to use as a way to reintroduce myself to blogging again.  Yet, I've never quite taken the steps to materialize it.  So after many mental gymnastics of me wanting to not write again publicly until I have recreated my beautiful blog ideas that exist in my head, or when I finally finish my book that I barely started writing 7 years ago.  I just said forget all of that, it will come. I just need to write to honor myself and honor the fact that I used to love writing, and it's a very good way for me to express my thoughts, ideas and stories.  Whatever shape it takes I am willing to let it be a mystery for now.  

    A lot of my adult life I have been a very task oriented person, and I like order, yet I'm truly a creative at heart, so this other side of me fights pretty hard against the keep it linear and responsible me and the make it wild, fun and definitely passionate, colorful creative side of me. There is also a hint of perfectionism...or really a massive dump truck load that at times gets in the way of me doing anything that I desire to do creatively at all.  Really I think a lot of it comes from insecurity and comparison to others and to my former self and capacities pre-motherhood.  A lot of regret and bitterness has eaten up my time and well-being.  Self-pity and shame as well as limited thinking about what I can actually do after facing debilitating chronic pain and symptoms for years crept in.  I've said things to myself like you wasted the best building years of your life being sick, as if it was my fault, or you ruined the success you were heading towards both for you, your husband and your family.  I really dug myself a pit of shame and depression and have lived there writhing in deep chronic physical and emotional pain too many days to count.  But in that process, I've been learning, and growing and those days are slowly fading away as I take each new step forward I can tell that I am healing.  I can see that I have already experienced miracles in my journey that I often overlooked or failed to celebrate the power at work in the broken places of my life.   

   I have a sense of responsibility and 'trying' to do all the things that a mom 'should' do and be all the things that a mom 'should' be that really aren't who I am at all.  There is a substantial amount of duty and responsibility that you have to step into and own as a parent and also a wife, but for me I often have a hard time finding the balance of having fun and taking time to breathe... or write, or honestly just remember that I am a person before I am a wife or a mother.  I get so busy with tasks that the true vibrant person I am is on hold, yet with three kids the time never seems to come because there is always somebody to take care of something to clean. And in my case for many years a doctors appointment to attend and another hopeful yet failed protocol to follow.  I actually am starting to see that writing for me really allows my soul to breathe a little.  In any given day the only adult I may talk to is my husband, and it's usually in the stress of shuffling kids to and from school, cooking sometimes for several hours in a day and bed time routines, wiping butts non-stop, screaming, whining etc.. you get the picture. Parenting can take almost every ounce of energy you have, and take your breath away. I often feel like I'm actually getting dumber by the day and my brain is shrinking and turning to mush because so often I am just a cleaning, dressing, laundry mountain folding taxi driving among mom. Now try attempting to do all that while having chronic migraines affecting your head, neck, throat, ear, face, eye and jaw, and not being able to lift things with your left side without experience significant pain.  That is not everyday, but many if not most days over the past 3 years that has been my experience.  That wears on you in so many ways that I don't even fully understand, and I've suffered years of at times life-threatening insomnia. There are days that I have felt like a robot and over this course of time like what I'm capable of is shrinking. 

    Before family and marriage and injury I had this deep desire to be creative.  I wanted to be an actress, a dancer, a writer, a musician, a photographer, a painter.  Anything that fell into the category of artist, I was into it. I was going to impact the world for Jesus in the area of creative arts and media. 10 years of marriage later and 3 kids later and a myriad of family dysfunction and injury and illnesss and working in the service industry in various capacities for 20+ years I haven't really figured it out. I've dabbled in every medium honestly for the most part just dipping my feet in each one, and never really mastering or growing too far in any one creative art. I don't have the time or feel like I have the resources, and sometimes the health, but here I am a generally overwhelmed mom of three who has had the most challenging past 4 years of chronic pain and other life events saying, "hey there's no time like the present." I've got a laptop and my fingers still work great, and I've got a lot of stories to tell.  Where to start I have no idea, but I settled with myself that writing about the present day is a good place to begin, and as I go we will see how it develops and I'm able share some of things I've been through and overcome as well as the things that I'm still walking through.  What specific topic or theme will I center my "new blog" around... that I have yet to decide.  I believe it will begin to take shape as I write.  

    I struggled for years and still am fighting the idea that what does my story or writing's even matter, there's a million voices out there in our modern age. Is it worth it to add my voice to the stage.  I could chose my 'dutiful' jobs or try to hustle and create some random business that everyone everywhere wants to suggest to you that you could do or should do as a stay at home mom to make extra income.  I'm finally just settling that as of now none of that works for me. I have a voice and a unique story and perspective on life and I'm sure that there are people out there just waiting for me to speak.  I recently read in a book an encouragement from the author's mom about her desire to make films and creative media.  She said something to the effect of, "but mom I don't want to be a doctor or a lawyer or something meaningful, I just want to make art. Whose life is that going save, or how am I going to defend the defenseless? Her mother responded by saying, "what do you think people do after work when they need to wind down, relax or decompress? They go to the movies, they turn to media to have a good cry or a good laugh.  She said you're going to help people feel, and that matters."  Those last words, "you're going to help people feel", struck me. My spirit said YES, I feel so many things, I would venture to say way to deeply at times, it's about time I let some of that out and helped others feel as they read what I've felt.  I don't know how many times I've watched a movie, heard a story or read a book and cried or laughed at the end of it or even just felt seen or understood.  I've even found profound healing just by watching or listening to another persons story.  Storytelling is powerful, and every human longs to tell their story, so here's to a new beginning of me not just letting life pass me by while I have been 'momming' along and recovering from very real pain and symptoms, but allowing my stories to be told along the way.  I'm not going to wait for the perfect time or moment anymore, because most of time those spaces and times are few and far between, and often never come.  So here I am, on a not so ordinary day because I finally said hey my baby went down early for a nap, and my husband offered to pick up my son from school;
and there are a million things I could do right now, but I have to write, and let this nagging voice telling me I need to write, but it can wait be silenced.