I feel like I am having writer's block for my whole life.
In my archives, I have a dozen drafts started about various subjects but nothing I can completely flush out and come to a logical conclusion about. Right now, I don't know what a logical conclusion to most things would look like?
Blocked. I feel blocked. There, I said it, blocked, blocked, blocked!
In psychiatry, they refer to a situation with two opposing outcomes which are both negative as a Double Bind. I feel like I'm in an Infinite Bind. If I stretch this way, no, if I lay down here, no, if I move in this direction, no, no, no!
My solution is to just keep putting one foot in front of the other and hoping something will break free. I have just gone through the tough 20-year-anniversary of my son's death and I feel life has left it's indiginous tread marks all over my heart once again. There is a joy around me, I see it, smell it, can even taste it at times, but somehow, I just can't partake fully. It's like looking at a fully set dining table with a bountiful meal and joyouos laughter ringing all around it; I keep knocking and waving but no one can hear me (not that they don't want to).
So, I'm here. Putting words down on the page. Being honest with you about where I'm at and how I'm doing and maybe a hint at how I'm feeling, although I 'm not really sure I even know.
There was a spark the other day; a painting of ferries dancing around a pond. Four little girls dabbed and played and imagined with me as we all sat spilling our souls with water colors. It felt good to complete something.
Mostly, I am feeling the constraints of my life. The anonymity I place myself under to ensure my family and I can live safely. It rubs at my independence in all the wrong ways. I wonder if the block is my own boundaries I have placed on myself which leave me still feeling caged at times.
Will that cage ever leave me?
And, yet, I still worry about how this will be perceived. Am I belly aching? If so, don't I have a right to occasionally? Or is that something I should suffer at alone and only come out on the occassions when I can be dignified and magnanimous? I don't feel those things right now. Maybe I should remain silent.
But, it is my silence which got me right here, simply trying to put words on a page.