Yesterday’s post was a bit difficult for me to write.
Whenever I start writing a post about a personal weakness, I always seem to stop in the middle and question myself, the direction I’m writing, whether I really want to let the public know all about this embarrassing little secret I’m revealing. Maybe I’ll lose respect. Maybe I’ll even lose friends.
And sometimes I stop writing. I can’t do it. I think I sound too whiny, too privileged, or just too lazy. And sometimes I am. The act of writing the post maybe helped me see the problem more clearly, see that it’s not as big a deal as my emotions wanted to make it, and maybe see ways to get past it, or ignore it.
But sometimes it’s something I really struggle with, that I haven’t got a handle on yet, that affects me greatly, and maybe my friends have even already noticed.
What helps me keep on keeping on is the idea that maybe I’m reaching someone else who struggles with the same thing. Maybe in some small way, my admittance is their inspiration. It might be a “misery loves company” thing, but not in the way that we go off into a corner together and completely indulge in our weakness.
No, because sometimes a weakness seems too heavy in silence to bear. But show it the light and share it with others, and suddenly it loses a lot of its power.
Silence and denial do not make problems go away. Neither does just commanding the problem away.
I like to think that if someone else struggles but hasn’t yet put words to the problem, that maybe if I provide the words their burden gets lighter. They know they’re not alone, crazy, flawed beyond redemption.
And if nobody else shares my weakness, well, I suppose it provides a glimpse into this crazy little head of mine. Do with it what you will. I trust you.
(This post was in response to Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writer’s Support Group blog entry for today.)