As promised (or threatened) to donnagirl
, this is going to be a Big Emo Post of Doom (tm). It may be that in title only - I'm not sure, I haven't written it yet, but here goes:
I have been soooo absent. Up until August, I was reading but not posting. I felt mute (for various reasons, a large one of which I will confess in this post). Gradually, I even stopped reading my flist, which is something I had never done, ever, in the eight years I'd had my journal. And I *missed* it! I missed you guys so much! I missed posting, I missed having a blog, I missed comments (omg I missed commenting SO MUCH). But I just couldn't bring myself to check my flist. I was... going through some shit.
When I was in the second grade, I had this best friend. She now works in my building and I do printing for her on a regular basis. She's never acknowledged that she knows me, or that we ever watched Spaceballs on Betamax a million times in her hippie dad's shag-carpeted basement swing den. I'm pretty sure this is because we had a sort of violent bff break-up. I don't remember what caused the break-up, but I do remember that the last thing she did in the friendship was accuse me of being emotionally stunted. I couldn't argue - I knew even then that it was true.
My issue with this journal basically boils down to embarrassment. A lot of it is completely irrational. I've felt embarrassed about what I like, what I don't like, who I know, what I do, what I don't do, what I have done, who I am, how I feel. It's this really generalized, crippling embarrassment. It might even border on shame - it's that powerful, and I'm able to direct it at virtually any area of my life. Apparently, I am nothing if not a master of self-sabotage.
Or at least, I have been. Welcome to my plan to snap the fuck out of it by discussing the very subjects that make me most avoidy, regardless of whether you know about them already. Actually, more power to me if you know about them already - do you know how many times I've just let my friends come to quiet conclusions about me instead of using my words? That is not cool. Even if the conclusions were right, that is just not rock and roll. And one of my more minor embarrassment issues is that I hate telling people things they already know, so if you already knew all of this, then I can consider it killing two birds with one stone. More homegrown therapy for me!
So here's my biggest stumbling block, laid bare for you. ( The history of my heart, cut to save your sanity. )
The most important thing is not to be mute anymore. I feel like this silence started during those months at the start of last year, when I lost my actual voice. It's like I got a taste of erasure, and it fit with how insignificant I felt inside, so when I got my voice back, I didn't use it. I just kept shutting up, literally and figuratively. Now I'm at this messy spilling point, just the natural end to a year or more of relative silence, I suppose. And I am so ready to yell.