28. What do I say when there’s too much, and nothing, to say?

I have been feeling ambivalent about blogging for some time now. Sometimes I feel like I have nothing to say. There’s just so much going on in the world that I am overwhelmed to the point of speechlessness. Every day when I walk, though, my head fills with ideas and words—most recently a long tirade about a misogynistic neo-conservative hero of the new men’s movement—but by the time I get back home, there’s a “To Do” list to tackle, and the words drain out of my head, my idea fizzles, and sitting down to write feels like more effort than I have time or energy for. I am sure there are thousands of writers out there who can relate.

Lately, I’ve been busy battling demons. It’s tough to share this, but I have been feeling shaky and vulnerable, not as robust and resourceful as I often do. It’s a bit of a mental health thingy. A bit of a confidence thingy. A bit of the ol’ PTSD coming back to bite me on the bum. I thought I had it licked. I thought I’d waved it “bye bye”. But no, it was lurking there in the shadows all the time.

I can’t even tell you exactly what set it off. But at some point in mid-December I had a weird health glitch, and I got triggered. This issue has been glitching on and off for almost 8 weeks now, and it has improved a lot. But, for a while there, it got to the point where I could not separate the issue itself from the panic it set off. Those of you who’ve had panic attacks may relate to what I mean. Before I started having them 8 years ago, I judged people who used the phrase “panic attack”, thinking, oh stop being so dramatic and just get over it! As if they were making the whole thing up. But no, I found out—it feels very very real, like you’re choking, like you’re fainting, about to die, even. It is VERY, VERY physical. It is debilitating, and affects every part of my life—physical, emotional, mental, social. I have had to work really really hard this past while, researching my health glitch, and more importantly, quelling the fear it has stirred up.

And now, on top of all this, it has come to the time of year when everyone dies on me. The months of February and March are when my mom, dad, best friend, another good friend, and husband died. I don’t think about it a lot ahead of time. I don’t dread February or March at all. I love celebrating my friends, and I love going through old photo albums and feeling so very grateful to have been blessed by their presence in my life. But perhaps my body still remembers the trauma, and that creates stress in ways I am not conscious of.

I hesitate even writing all this because the last thing I want is pity. But I do want to be real. I do have things to say, and I want to keep writing, even if it’s sporadic.

There are lots of good things happening for me. I am singing new songs, and loving a new person. I am blessed, but yes, even that creates stress. I will tell you more soon. I may have some ranting to do first, though. Stay tuned…