To write or not to write? That is my question.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved to write. I learned to read before I started Kindergarten. I started writing stories as soon as I could write. I started writing in a journal when I was 7 or 8. I started writing poems when my first boyfriend introduced me to it when I was 13. And now I write professionally. Or at least I used to do all of these things.

Writing was my venting mechanism. When I felt like no one understood me, or when I felt like I’d burst wide open if I didn’t let all of the things rumbling around in my head out, I’d grab a pen and paper and get it all out. Kind of like when you’ve been holding your pee for so long that when you finally make it to a bathroom, it hurts at first and you have to push it out to begin the process, and then there’s this huge relief as you let it all go. The emptiness when you were done felt good, just as my head would when I’d get it all out on paper. I could make better sense of things, decide which direction to take, if I got things all out on paper.

When I started this blog, my biggest goal was to not only have a new place to share my thoughts and feelings, but to also share my story in the hopes that I’d inspire someone to keep fighting each day. And I was hoping to let my future spouse know exactly who I was so there would be no surprises, and so he would love me, the real me, faults and all.

The past few months, since my blog admitting I have been going through depression, I have pretty much shut down all my writing. I’ve battled in my head over what to even say. Everything in my mind has been so negative lately that I knew it would be incredibly difficult to write something inspiring when I wasn’t inspired myself. I’ve thought about writing a blog dozens of times, but each time stopped myself, worried I’d say something too dark, too personal, or inspire someone to do something bad rather than good. I have others to consider now – a husband, step kids, and new in-laws. I can’t just say anything I want anymore.

So I haven’t been writing in my journal, or on my blog, or on Facebook as much. My new job doesn’t provide as many opportunities for writing, especially for telling people’s inspiring stories, which is what truly makes me feel like I have a purpose in this world. This all makes me feel like I am slowly shriveling up inside. Yes, there is something to be said for not baring all, especially when one is going through a very dark period in their life. Unfortunately, depression has also made me question my ability to write anything of value at all. My lack of fulfillment at work also makes me wonder if I have any marketable skills that any employers need or want, since I applied for countless jobs but nobody is interested. Contrary to how I used to feel, I don’t want to write things out because I feel like I can’t make any good decisions anymore. So why bother writing it out if it won’t make any difference?

But, I know there are others out there who feel the same as I do right now. I have a friend who has been looking for work for months. She has the education, the experience, and is a wonderful person, yet finding a job since she got laid off has been impossible.

Since my blog about being depressed, a couple of friends contacted me and told me they know how I feel because they suffer from depression as well. They offered help and support, although I haven’t taken them up on it because I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own.

I’ve started seeing a therapist, but I am very skeptical about it working. I have a few core beliefs about myself that I’ve held since I was a child. How do you change those? How do you convince yourself you have worth, you’re loveable, and you don’t have to constantly be achieving great and amazing things so people will love and accept you? How do you change your core belief that no matter how hard you try, it’s never good enough? And how do you learn to let go, and learn to relax, and not stress about dishes, laundry and keeping the house clean – for fear you’ll get kicked out if you don’t keep a perfect house? These beliefs about myself started in childhood, and have nothing to do with who I have been married to or who I am currently married to. It is up to me to change – not anyone else. I just don’t know how. I don’t know how to love myself.

My hope is that this therapy will help. Because I’m tired of being sad. Tired of thinking everything in my life is wrong and mixed up. Tired of feeling worthless. So tired of feeling like everything I do is wrong. Tired of believing that bad things happen to me not because that’s just life – but because I deserve it because of the wrong choices I’ve made along the way, and because I’m not worthy of love and strength through bad times.

I do know that I need to write. It is a core part of who I am. I need interaction with people. If I keep pushing people away and recessing, I’ll only get worse. I am trying. And not just for my kids, or my spouse, or my parents, or coworkers, but for me. I want to be happy.