A therapist person told me once that I needed to fully own my emotions. It had been my nature to push my feelings down deep inside to deal with them as I saw fit and only when I felt it absolutely necessary to do so. All that pent up frustration and bottled aggression made for some quality writing and so it served me well. The stories that were manifested from all that anguish will soon be shopped around after having received some very favorable responses from their initial reads.Taking heed to the advice that I’d been given I opened myself up, facing my issues head on. For the most part that opening up was quite liberating and has made from some interesting moments, hard frank discussions, and an occasional confrontation or two. Unfortunately my writing has suffered.
It hit me today that not only did I open myself up, but I’ve also been wearing my emotions on my sleeves. This has left me exposed and vulnerable. In fact, I can’t remember when I felt so susceptible, and to be honest, I’m not liking the feeling at all. All this emotional stimuli has had me distracted and unfocused, and my writing reads like pretty pink cotton candy - all sugar and fluff. Sugar and fluff is great for a quick high, but once you crash and burn there’s not much else left behind.
I’m finding it necessary to rebuild some thick walls around myself. I think it’s past time I retreated back inside to reclaim my muse. I’m sure if I gave it some thought I’d be able to find a happy medium but I’m not seeing happy too clearly right now and I’m not much motivated to give it any serious thought. I need to return to the dark side for a while. I need to write and I’m not much interested in it being pink or pretty.
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