While going through the notebook I use to hand-write the material for my book, I found a short journal entry, if you will, that I must have jotted down to purge my mind of some of the thoughts, extraneous to the point of my book's material, that were likely floating through my mind at the time. It's not unusual for this to happen, and likely as not, these thoughts are later useful as pertinent material anyway.
Typically, I would keep these notes to myself as they are usually either personal or future material that I hope you and all your friends see when the hordes fall all over themselves to read the published copy of my book. At least that is the fantasy I comfort myself with when I'm feelings a writer's block coming on. In this particular case of mental purge, I am choosing to share my thoughts here and now in the spirit of follow-up from my previous post, Flashback.
This is what I wrote:
Everyday I find myself struggling to stay in the place I've put myself. Something inside me keeps trying to jump out, a sudden and overwhelming urge to conquer the world. I know that I'm made for more than I am right now, but I'm healing. It's always hard for the doers of the world to tame their wanderlust long enough to complete their bed rest. I could jump up and forge ahead full throttle. And I would succeed. But only at the cost of building deep, impenetrable scars. Once made, they only ever go away by way of a miracle. I'm trying to control myself long enough to heal naturally. Then, I'll shake off the cobwebs and finish leaving my mark on the world.
This is in response to the way I felt after coming back from Iraq. It was extremely difficult to spend time at home with my family, focusing on readjusting to my world rather than rushing back out for another adventure. It was the right thing for me, and it was the right thing for my family. I don't know who I would be had I not listened to my instincts, but I am ready to leave my mark.
I understand this mentality. Too often we hide away and become hermits, withdrawing to heal... and then cannot or will not reemerge to face the world again. We become afraid of being hurt again, afraid of putting our families through the same traumas all over again.
ReplyDeleteFor me, the important thing was using the feelings you describe to take the opportunity to heal. I was deliberate about it. I had to be, or I knew the way I felt would be my reality forever. I remember repeatedly feeling like I wanted to conduct life from within a closet. I could decorate, keep the door locked, and make interactions with others through a mail-sized slot in the door. That's no way for me to live.
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