Why I Avoid Writing

I sit down in front of my laptop, wanting to write. I sit and stare at the screen. It usually doesn’t take long for my phone to come back out. I find myself scrolling absentmindedly through social media.

Why am I avoiding something I want so badly to do, though?

Is it the fear of rejection? The fear that someone will read something I write and judge me harshly? Could it be because of the shame and embarrassment I still hold on to for my past mistakes? What about the wall I put up around writing about topics that involve others, for fear of hurting them in some way? Is it the fear that I will never be good enough?

I have spent a large portion of my life avoiding and letting fear run the show. I don’t have to continue that way, though. I can choose to look the avoidance straight on and determine why it is happening so that I can change it.

I am trying to write for both an audience, and myself.

I put too much thought into what I write sometimes. I find myself reading what I wrote and wondering how someone might judge me for it. Will they roll their eyes and think what I write is stupid? Is it even worth reading at all?

Instead of just writing for myself only as part of my healing process, I am trying to deliver something that at least one person will enjoy reading or maybe relate to. Rather than just writing to write, writing whatever I want, I end up talking myself out of writing anything at all because I get the idea in my head that someone will laugh at me, judge me, think I am stupid. I convince myself that all of my ideas and words aren’t good enough, and I give up.

What if I started to just write for myself, without worrying who or if anyone at all will read it? What if I just wrote to explore areas of my life that are in need of healing or sorting out? What if I just wrote for me? For now, at least.

I worry about how my words or stories may be construed and affect others.

Today, I have a good relationship with my parents. My parents have never been more supportive of me until recently. They have stood beside me while I have turned my life around. They have done a lot to help take care of me through my hardest times in the last couple of years.

Our relationship didn’t always look like this, though. From the outside, it probably looked fine, but behind closed doors was a tumultuous relationship. My dad worked on the road for a few years, leaving my mom home alone with two teenagers. I think that it was more overwhelming to her than she would admit. My teen years were full of screaming matches between my mom and me. I felt like I was living in hell at home sometimes and it turns out those years had a real effect on me and where my life would go.

There are ex-boyfriends and friends that have also affected me and my life. Talking about certain aspects of the relationships may paint someone in a certain light that may not resemble who they are as a person anymore.

I worry about getting the stories right without exaggerating or filling in the blanks. I worry about how people will feel if they read about themselves in my stories.

Part of me doesn’t understand why I worry so much. Some of these people really hurt me, including my parents. They let me down; they failed me; they caused me pain. It is part of my truth. It all plays an important part in telling my story and how I ended up where and who I am today.

I want to be authentic in my writing. If I am going to share, I want it to be real, not made up. It doesn’t feel authentic to me if I have to write around how someone hurt me just to protect them.

I don’t want to write negatively, but sometimes I just don’t have anything positive to say.

I don’t want to be that “negative Nancy” who is always going on about their problems and how hard their life is. But frankly, that is just how I feel sometimes. That I can’t get two steps ahead without falling three behind. That I can’t lift myself up from the weight of the sadness that consumes me.

I always try to bring a positive spin at the end of what I am writing if it is kind of sad. But maybe I should stop doing that and just write what I want to and stop worrying about bumming someone else out.

I have unfollowed plenty of people because I don’t like seeing their content. No one is forced to look at mine. I want to share my stories, but sometimes they are just sad or pessimistic but that is just part of life for everyone, isn’t it? Why should I have to censor myself and my content on my own blog just because some voice in my head tells me that no one wants to read about how I am having a hard time?

I am just plain afraid.

I fear rejection. I fear judgment. I fear failure.

I have been afraid for too long. I have held myself back for way too long because of these fears. I am tired of being afraid of everything, all the time.

I need to learn how to take my life back and do what will make me happy, what will make me feel like I have some sense of purpose. I need to learn to just do things for myself, without worrying about what others will think.

I don’t know how to do that without feeling nauseous, but it’s time I figure it out.

I am done being afraid. I am done avoiding.