#HAWMC Day 7: “Why I write. Tell us why you write about your health. How long have you been writing? What impact has it made on your life? Write for 15-20 minutes without stopping.”
I’ll bet dollars to donuts you instantly thought, “Oh, this is going to be all puppies and rainbows and kittens’n’shit!” You might be a teesy bit right.
I’m writing real.
I write because it’s therapeutic.
I write because I feel I can express sentiments in a way that people can relate to, applicable to the healthy and healthily-challenged alike.
I write openly. I let you in on my family’s goings’ on. I let you in on most of my own goings’ on. *shifty eyes*
I put myself out in the public eye because there once was a time that I couldn’t speak out for fear of…who knows…and I wish I’d found someone like me writing about this journey.
Let me illuminate the reality:
By putting myself out in the public, and being oh-so-very open to sharing my everythings with y’all…
(remember the frozen Hoo-Ha??)
<————– this is what happens.
See, I share both the good AND the bad and ugly.
Thing is…who doesn’t want to illustrate the good more often that the less-than-stellar??
I became a target.
I became a target of other people’s failures and shortcomings.
I became a target of other people’s inability to make their own choice…the choice that would be best for *them*…as opposed to the choice they see in “Me.”
‘Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathize with a friend’s success.’ ~Oscar Wilde
I wish people would truly comprehend the reality of living with a chronic disease and, further still, those who *do* should not negate the successes of someone simply out of envy in reflection upon their own person.
“Them’s are bold words there, woman!”
Remember, most social media postings reflect the highlights of our personal lives, not the “I got bitch-slapped by the feelz and couldn’t get up because I had an ugly cry…”
I write to illustrate the challenges.
I write to illustrate that I do the best that I can with what I’ve been given, but by the love of the gods…I DO.
I write to highlight the choices I make for myself and as such, I highlight the consequences of those choices. Yes. I have a lot of successes and accomplishments to write about because I damn well made the mutha’ f\m/kin’ effort to set a goal, make a choice and either: 1) Fail and learn and adjust the sails accordingly, or 2) Raise my hands to the roof in celebration. Should I be writing about all of my failures? Do I want to sound like an Eeyore? Like, call the “Whaaaaaa-mbulance?”
So, for every success I write about, that ANYone writes about, I hope people remember that there were, quite possibly, eleventy-billion failures leading up to that grand HUZZAH!
I write because I still want to try to do new things…and I sure as shit write to capture the importance to make that effort.
I write to put a witty spin on a life I don’t want to live.
Bold and italicized, bitches. Right there.
Are you shocked? Is it because I’m good at “faking it”? Or, is it because I’m kick-ass at finding something, ANYthing, to focus on to get me through the hell I overcome every day? I *do* my damnedest to make the best of the life that I have…
BUT: there will be none of that talk and I thus…I write. And write I do…
Because at the end of the day (or the post!), someone, somewhere, makes a comment.
It is exactly and precisely because of that comment that I make a choice to continue to write.
I write because someone, somewhere, is taking something away from my journey that helps them find themselves within their own.