Well – F*ck them!

Here I am, sitting at my desk. Looking at my laptop screen. So many thoughts going through my head.

Now – which one to write about?

Things have changed a bit in my life lately. Until August last year, I used to think out loud here all the time. One blog a day. Every day. I loved it. What started as a little push that I gave myself to worry less about what others would think of me, or my writing, turned into a daily moment of joy. A habit. A diary. Or more like an open-access journal, for everyone (or no one) to read. Writing here was liberating.

I never held back in writing. I just wrote what I thought, same as I do now. What has changed dramatically since, though, is that these days I am having second thoughts.

Quite literally!

The reason I stopped writing is that apparently my thinking out loud – even in my own fucking space on the web – was not appreciated by all equally. Looking back now, I can sort of laugh about it. Or can I? To be honest, the situation changed my perspective on writing, at least at a subconscious level. I still think that on a personal blog, people should be able to write their opinion on any matter, as long as it doesn’t incite violence or hate, or puts people in danger. You know. You should be able to tell that someone treated you like a cunt, if that is the truth. I certainly think that this should be okay if no people were named. Sure. The audience can maybe guess from context in some instances. But you can always deny. Do you really think people care that much about you? What do they know anyway?

(And maybe, just maybe – people shouldn’t behave like cunts all the time?)

I digress.

Many of the things I used to write about, were personal situations. Some recent. Some less recent. Some were pleasant, and others were downright shitty. Writing clears my mind. And whatever is on it, joy or sadness, writing somehow bends it towards joy. Or at least peace inside the cranium.

It was my goddamn medicine.

A medicine for what? Who knows. Certainly for my generalized anxiety disorder, which has flared up quite a bit over the past months. A cure to things that make me feel bad. A one-fits-all solution.

Except it doesn’t work any more.

Or well. Of course it works. But my stupid brain has literally been pushed back to the days I just started blogging. The days where every post was accompanied by raging fear of ‘what will people think of me?’.

It doesn’t matter that I have received so many nice comments on my blog over the past two years. It doesn’t matter that there has been only one backlash – and was that one even real? The fact that matters is that there was one backlash. And now my fear keeps telling me it will happen again. And again. (And again!)

I started off writing about the many thoughts running through my head. It’s utter chaos some days. It isn’t anything all that bad. Just hundreds of thought paths running in parallel. Thoughts of worry. Thoughts of the future. Thoughts of the past. Many thoughts of joy too (don’t worry!).

I had the feeling that my mind was calmer when I wrote regularly.

And even though I sit down to write regularly, for the blogs, I have stuck almost entirely to silly stuff that doesn’t matter much. I avoid touchy subjects. I try not to get too personal. Most of all, I barely post anything. Ugh. I cleaned out my ‘drafts’ folder today. Filled with would-be stories that were never posted…

What if I offend ‘them’?

Well – maybe just: Fuck them!