Writing. Hmmmm, that's been a big subject lately. Seems like so many people are asking me about writing. Why am I afraid of my writing? It is easily my biggest outlet and source of comfort. Carol asked if I have ever thought about my writing helping others. Hubby asks why I am afraid of being published. Is it simply a fear of rejection like they both say? The song "Beautiful" by Mercy Me comes to mind. The line that says
if they truly saw your heart, they'd see too much
I reveal quite a bit of my struggle in my writing. Yet there is a huge part that is withdrawn. If you think you know me because you read my writing, you do. And you don't. There is so much within my heart that I do not write. There is so much within me that I just don't know how to express on paper. Maybe that is the raw, unprocessed me since writing is how I process life. Writing also makes things so final. Like for instance, dealing with depression and anorexia was only a battle in my mind until my medical chart said it. Now it is on paper for any of my doctors to see. It doesn't by any means define me but it does add a certain amount of hard reality (as opposed to mental reality) to my life. If I write the things in my heart, they are no longer things in my heart, they are hard realities. How is it possible that I can be so open and yet so closed at the same time? I freely give the information when asked, but I still hold a large amount sacred inside my heart. I give information like it is a fact but not with the emotions that are felt. The emotions are reserved for when I am alone. The story is for anyone to see. How do I bridge that gap? And is writing really my calling and I'm just afraid or is it just my outlet to help me process this crazy journey?