I’ve been away for a while. A long while and the time I’ve spent away has been eye-opening. Refreshing even because I was able to sit down and examine myself and understand what was wrong. Whoa, is this what being a sentient being feels like?
My last post was in April! April! That’s ridiculous. I’m still shocked. Anyway!
At the time of my last few posts back in April and March, I was in the midst of planning a study abroad trip to China. It was extremely stressful because, as with life, there are always random financial issues. And with being a college student it becomes even more complicated. Anyway, due to misinformation relayed to me by my school’s financial aid department, I ended up having to pay about $2000 extra for tuition. I won’t bore you with the details of everything that happened because they are small and insignificant in comparison to the fact that I WENT TO CHINA?!
I want to cover China in another post ( or a series of posts??) though because it deserves that. For now, though I wanted to explain everything that I discovered about myself, blogging and why it became so difficult for me.
I’ve struggled with productivity my entire life so it is no surprise that blogging has fallen into the abyss that is my mind when I’m ignoring responsibilities. It’s not surprising but it is disappointing because I tried to hold myself to higher standards. Set goals and achieve them, create a plan and stick to it and all that. But that has proven to be extremely difficult for me for a number of reasons.
The first being that when I am uninspired, it can last for weeks and weeks and I feel like crap because I can’t produce anything even if I want to. Sometimes I sit down at the computer with a brilliant idea in my head but when it comes down to creating a cohesive post I can’t do it. This happened so many times that I just decided I wouldn’t write anything. Every time I thought about writing or my blog I felt guilty because I was neglecting both. And if I want to be a writer, I have to write. I kept thinking about those words over and over but would still drown myself in useless content on social media because I was doubting whether or not I could even create any more. Or whether or not I even should.
As I said before, organizing for my trip to China was very stressful and I spent a lot of time worrying about whether or not my scholarships would come in time for me to go. I kept repeating variations of the words “It’ll work out, this is only temporary. 2 months from now this won’t even matter” to myself in an effort to lessen the unnecessary burden I was placing on myself. It worked about 90% of the time, but I just have this tendency to over dramatize and feel like minor inconveniences will end me so I had no time to sit down and articulate my feelings into something tangible like prose or a blog post.
While in China, I remember admiring the beauty and the culture and feeling so inspired. I brought a journal with me and on those nights when I wasn’t completely exhausted, I sat down to recount how the day’s events made me feel. That was the first time I’d journaled in months and it felt amazing because I remembered why it had been so important to me in the first place. I knew that when I got back home I’d be able to write again and the realization was beautiful. The one thing that I can rely on to pull me out of whatever dark place I’ve put my mind is writing. And if I’m not doing that, then how will I ever release myself from that place?
I feel selfish looking back because I realize that by not writing I only further perpetuated the negative feelings I had about myself because of my inability to write. I’ve been so mean to myself. But- it’s okay now because it is summer, I’m happy and I have nothing but free time to sit and create. (And read because I bought some novels while in China and I’m very excited.)
Anyway, I’ve returned. And while I’m not exactly thrilled about being back home (booo, boring) I am ecstatic that I’ve returned.