So I briefly considered titling this entry: “Disconnecting” but that would put me on a whole new level of plagiarism that I can’t quite deal with. You see, “Disconnect” is the title of a blog entry a certain colleague of mine made and it is this particular blog entry that inspired me to write my own entry that I am…er…currently writing. That was a weird sentence….
But I digress.
What I want to talk about today is the fact that I won’t be writing for a little while. I am doing a little re-vamp of my lifestyle. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of producing. I’ve been writing and talking and making and forming and building. It’s gotten to the point that I’m just putting stuff out into the world without even really knowing if I believe them or not. I say “this is what I believe”, but is it really?
Lately it feels like this blog, which is supposed to be nothing more than a simple documentation of my honest and simple thoughts and beliefs, is actually a long running creative writing assignment. I go through relationships making ultimatums on things that simply have to be or simply can’t be based on an idea of what is my core and central self, based on what is unchangeable. Yet this unchangeable self, this core, seems to change constantly based on the most recent book I read or movie I watched.
In my creative writing: my short stories and poems, I write by putting my self in the shoes of another. I put on a suit made of another personality and I walk and think and speak and feel as if I were that persona. This makes me for a powerful creative writer (when I can actually take the time to finish something) but lately “writer’s licence” my “creative spirit” has been spilling over into real life.
It’s gotten so that every time I have a thought for something to say or do I have to stop myself and think “Is this really something I think or feel, something I want to do, or is it something that would be done or thought or felt by the personality I forgot to take off?”
It’s terrifying, not being able to tell if the feelings you’re having are really honestly yours or if they are just a byproduct of a role you are playing without realizing it.
I get mad at my boy. I walk in to the room and I rant and I rave at him. I tell him all the things he’s doing wrong and how frustrated I am with him. We have a fight, we cry, we go to bed upset. The next day I honestly can’t figure out what I was so upset about. I think over the things I said and sometimes I agree with them and sometimes I think “that doesn’t sound like me at all.” I was simply playing the role of the righteously furious girlfriend.
Who am I?
I’m really not sure anymore. It feels like my definition of self is constructed of hundreds of different personalities and roles stacked up on one another surrounding an empty core.
My core is gone. I’m empty inside.
So from now on I’m not writing. I’m not speaking. I’m not making decisions about who I am and what I’m going to do with my future. I can’t be trusted.
For now I’m only receiving, ingesting. I’m going back to the basics of the things that formed me and made me what I am. Hobbies, favorites, passions, dreams, the many things that we use to define our identity, I’m going to try to find them again.
Wish me luck!