So many people have told me I should start writing again, so here I am. Tentatively. Should I really be doing this? I’m afraid of getting back to the frenzied hypomanic state I was in when I wrote most of what’s on here, afraid that my muse will somehow take over again. At the same time I need an outlet, at least I think I do. Over the past year or so I’ve had a chance to look at quite a bit of what I’ve written on here, and so much of it is absolute crap but there are still, in my opinion, some rather good pieces too… What to do, what to do?
When I started this blog it was to have an outlet, a safe haven in a tumultuous sea of overheated emotions, and to an extent my writing here was just that. But it also served to fan the flames that were burning. I know the amount of work it takes to make a blog, in particular a poetry blog, reasonably successful and I’m not sure I am willing or able to put that much energy into it, but I’m reminding myself that I started this for me and me alone. I remember the fear I felt that someone would shoot me down, point out all the mistakes and pour salt in my wounded self-esteem and I remember how wonderful it felt when people told me that they liked what I’d written. But, again, I also remember how hard I had to work to get people to read. This shouldn’t be about getting people to read, it should be about me. The one place where I can be totally and completely selfish, but in a loving and healing way. Where I can talk to the child in me with a kind and nurturing voice, without judgement.
I don’t know if I’ll be writing regularly again, or if this is just a one-off, but I hope I can start sharing myself this way with whoever wants to listen and read. I don’t know if I’ll start taking part in the various poetry blog prompts out there again, but for now I’m here. And I’ll start by clearing out all the things I still have in my drafts folder. Let’s see if someone out there still wants to read?