WHY CAN”T I WRITE?
I can’t write anything. Not homework. Not my blog. Not my book. Not even a damned text message. I feel like my soul has been sucked right out of me. Five times, I’ve sat down to do serious writing. Five times, all I could do was write about how stressed, upset, and overwhelmed I am. Most of it ended up like gibberish, with me blubbering as I typed away at the keys. This isn’t writers block. This is something much worse.
I had to drop two of my classes due to this crap. Philosophy and Creative Writing. Two classes I REALLY enjoyed. Now, I’m hanging by a thread in my other classes, with my family obligations threatening to snap that thread before my eyes. It’s killing me.
There are two sides to me, it seems. The mothering side who wants to be everything for everyone, conquering all obstacles we come across. Then, there’s the selfish side who wants nothing more than to run and hide from it all, doing nothing more than what my little heart desires.
I know what I need to do and I’m doing it, but I still want to hide my head in the sand until this all blows over.
Sometimes I hate being me.