I have never been a strong public speaker, meaning conveying my thoughts through speaking to others. Clearly. Otherwise I probably would not have this sort of blog (or a blog at all for that matter) and would be talking about politics or some other seemingly trivial matter that I don't have a care in the world for, at least for the time being. I have always struggled with communicating all the words and ideas floating about in my mind to people without having first drafted those thoughts in ink.
When I am approached by someone and asked my opinion, I usually walk away from my response frustrated, and mumbling to myself what I should have and very easily could have said with total disappointment in myself. Sometimes I feel that I have portrayed myself as a less competent individual that I feel that I am. Most times I just feel like an idiot for not stating exactly how I feel.
The worst times for me are when I am put on the spot and what I say actually holds significance, such as a recording for someone's personal use, taking a quote down for a school newspaper, or even worse; on TV.
So how does not writing on this blog, being a horrible public speaker, and disliking myself have anything to do with each other?
Because I really am such a horrible public speaker (really), the best way I can clearly convey my thoughts, ideas, and intentions are through writing. Venting is probably the most effective way to explain how writing relieves my built up tension, worries, and stress.
Because I have not written, I have bottled up everything inside me. Every time I thought about writing this summer, it didn't ever appeal to me. A downward spiral formed, and my actions started to reap consequences. Consequences being that my self-esteem dropped, I felt negative about certain aspects of my life that I had never struggled with, and I felt truly stuck. I didn't quite understand who I was. Everyone sort of feels like this at times of their life, and I have been in this situation all too much. But this time, it was a different kind of stuck, and I felt that there was something blockading my progression.
Tonight, I realized what stopped me, and that was the fact that I hadn't been writing. I feel so much better now that I have let things loose, even left some loose ends untied and drifting in the wind, and maybe (just maybe) I have broken that temporary barrier.
And I think I know who I am now.