Taking Back my Projects

Taking Back my Projects

For the past few months, I have been in survival mode. It’s only been about making it through the day, just completing the most essential of tasks. I am starting to realize that I wasn’t very good at handling my disappointment with a few people in my life, and I bottled everything up and hibernated. I gave them all of my power, and I allowed them to take complete control of my life.

I know that I need to stop blaming them too, I think the reason I have is because it’s been hard for me to process this emotion of disappointment. I don’t do things for others because I expect anything back–the disappointment comes from hoping they will show up in some form or another for you, but they don’t at all.

You aren’t worth anything for them, when they meant so much to them. It can be a really tough pill to shallow, and I’ve had a hell of a time managing to this, but I’m starting to see the light at the end of tunnel. I am starting to see how much healthier and happier my life can be without them. And with this healing taking place, I’m starting to pick up my writing projects again.

Earlier this year, I self published February Rain which was an accomplishment that brought me a lot of joy. For me, the success comes from finishing the project. I had an idea for another poetry book but I haven’t made any effort on it. I’m starting to scribble ideas down and I can feel the momentum building.

My hope is in a few months, I’ll be able to write every day, and take back my projects.

Hermit Saturday

Hermit Saturday

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Hiding from the world today, writing my heart out. These days are rare and I am thankful that I get even this one. Sometimes, writing is the only way I stop myself from saying or doing something that I truly regret. My anger can really bottle up, bubbles of rage that threaten to boil over.

It’s not that I wish that people would do what I say or that things have to go my way. What I wish for is for the vitriol and hate that people spit at me to dial down. I never treat anyone with cruelness and I always send such positivity into their lives. I’m not saying that everyone has to treat me super kind, especially if that isn’t who they are. All I want is a basic level of respect. If they have something to say, even if it’s a complaint, why do they speak with such a clear intention to hurt?

Why can’t they say what they feel with the same respect that I give them? I just don’t want to be someone’s punching bag, but at the end of the day the truth remains: you just cannot control people. And that’s why I write–write everything out. Because it’s still a tough pill for me to swallow–that kindness doesn’t equate someone treating you with the basic level of common decency. You can truly do so much for someone and be guaranteed less than nothing. In these circumstances, I just wish that I could receive nothing back, because it’s less than nothing is so much worse.

My hope is that writing will ease the sting of negativity and that sadness will be replaced with inner strength…