What Now?

I've been wondering all day what I should write about, what I should say, what I should reflect on in this post today.  Nothing comes to mind.  It's all the same.  The same nonsense, the same concerns, the same desires.  And I mean really, what am I supposed to write about when lately, everything I do, say, write, think comes back to the exact same thing?  I don't particularly want to write about it anymore.  I've done enough of that.  More than enough, really.

But that's where my thoughts are.  I don't even know what they are anymore, but I do know where they are.  I'm not sure if that's good or bad.  In the past couple of days though, that's been reflected everywhere.  Those who know me particularly closely understand that OneNote is a breeding-ground for my ideas, for the random phrases that float in the back of my mind.  It's how I sort through the messes in my head, and occasionally how I get the ideas for blogs or the pieces I write that I will never, for one reason or another, post here.

Lately, it's all been the same.  The content hasn't remained constant, nor has the style...but the backbone of all of that writing remains identical.  I can't think about anything else.  This is the problem with obsession.  It becomes particularly prevalent when someone with all of the insecurities and issues that I am home to becomes obsessed with something so potentially temporary, transient, immeasurably inconstant, and at this particular moment unattainable.

What am I supposed to say then?  How am I supposed to dredge something else up from the recesses of my mind to formulate a series of coherent thoughts, put them into words, then link those into sentences and in turn paragraphs to make them a comprehensible blog post?  I don't know that it's possible for me right now.  I don't honestly know if I'm even capable of really thinking about anything recently, but between the headache, the anticipation, and the dread, that's not entirely unexpected.

I realized something yesterday, though...when I'm upset, I tend to be quiet.  I want to avoid talking about it or ranting or causing outbursts.  So I just curl up within myself, provide minimum responses to maintain some form of communication and a facade of normalcy, and allow those around me to move on.  I may have also realized what threw me off so badly yesterday.  I have a feeling I knew from the very beginning, but I'm not sure why I didn't mention it, or perhaps why I didn't really allow it to register fully. 

That sentence chilled me to the bone.  It froze my breath.  It made my heart stop beating for a second (I doubt literally, but the sensation was equivalent).  Certainly, I understood.  But that didn't change my initial reaction to those words.  Maybe that made me realize just how afraid I was of that, just how confused I would be in such an event.  Perhaps it just caused the reality and gravity of it all to really sink in as it hadn't before.  I don't know.  That threw me off though, that's what started it and everything else piled on top until I ended up where I was yesterday, crying and slamming my computer shut because I couldn't look at it anymore.

So now the words are flowing.  It seems effortless, smooth.  I think this may have been the case for the past few days actually, with progressively longer posts and paragraphs.  I've been putting them up faster.  For some reason, I've been able to just start writing and go on and on and on until it felt as though it hit some reasonable (or perhaps not so) end.  Maybe it's because I wanted to change something.  Maybe this is how I'm changing it, by taking several minutes a day to literally just let my thoughts flow out, uninterrupted. 

Certainly these are far from my deepest emotions or sincerest of desires, but this lets my brain go unfiltered.  Directed, yes, but not filtered.  This has been free, almost like a stream of consciousness.  I haven't paused even once to try and establish a method for proper expression of a given sentiment or anything else.  I just sat down and started typing.  And once I began, I didn't stop, I haven't stopped, not yet, although I probably will soon.  After this morning though, when something really hit me badly, I think I feel better.  Maybe it was the reading, maybe the mindless wandering around a store.  But I feel more like myself, more able to communicate again.  I think that's good...