I recently started writing again. Well, I recently started sharing my writing again. There is this strange thing that happens to me when I share my writing with other people and I’m not sure if it says more about me and my lack of ability to communicate with IRL or… well, that’s probably it. Anyway, every time I share one of my pieces; whether it be poetry or commentary or just a plain old rant, people who read it think that something must be going on with me. Or something is up. Or something is wrong.
I got to thinking about why this might happen and concluded that people just don’t know me. My husband has mentioned in the past that I’m not exactly easy to get to know. Whatevs. But isn’t that the point of writing and sharing one’s writing is to get to know the world and let the world know you? When I write, I write truth. My truth. My beliefs, my thoughts, my feelings, my ambitions. My truths. Sharing these things with the world can be daunting. Scary as shit, actually. But I do it, knowing I’m taking the chance that I’ll be judged, because it’s my way of letting others get to know me. It’s my way of stepping out in to the big bad world without actually stepping out in to the big bad world. It’s scarier, though, in a lot of ways because I don’t have anyone to hide behind or a wall to put up as a defense mechanism to protect myself. It’s just me…. Putting myself out there…
I wanted to clear a few things up for those people that might be “concerned” about me when they read my writing.
I typically write about mental illness, being fat, politics, nudism. Most of my blogs do center around more “serious” topics. I will admit that. I suppose if you’re just getting to know me, you should know that right off: I tend to be a fairly serious person. Just because I choose to write about serious topics and because I’m a serious person does not mean there is something wrong with me. I’m okay. I’m just… me. The difference from the last time you saw me to now is that you read my blog. If you already knew me in person, but hadn’t had a chance to really talk to me; and I mean really talk, then you only know the socially awkward, introvert Ter’esa. If you read my blog you now are getting to know me; not the real me, but all of me. My point is that I’m not different. I’m still me. Maybe the change in on your end. Your perceptions of me have altered. I get it. That’s understandable and okay. I’m still okay, though.
Just to clarify, writing about being fat when your fat is…. Truth. When I write a blog about what life is like being a fat chick on any given day or under any certain circumstance it’s not a cry for help. I’m not whining or feeling sorry for myself. I’m sharing my truth. And it has helped me connect with others who experience the same emotions and difficulties and incidents (humorous ones, too) by just…. Talking.
When I write about mental illness- particularly as it pertains to my experience(s) with my own diagnosis, I’m not doing it for attention. I’m writing about a subject that society still views as taboo; a subject that everyone wants to point their finger at while sweeping it under the rug or stuffing it in a closet. I write about my mental illness to shine a light on mental health (not on myself!) and normalize the process of discussing mental health issues and to educate others and to help tear apart the stigma that surrounds mental illness. I hope to reach at least one person that might recognize themselves in my writing and know that it’s okay to talk about it. Just… talk. That’s where change and healing starts..
If I get on my soap box about politics, nudism, prison reform, the death penalty or even just the fact that they don’t make cute clothes for fat girls (don’t get me started!), well, just … just let me go until I wear myself out or fall off of my box.
Oh and if I write a poem about it being gray outside it doesn’t mean I’ve fallen in to a state of depression. I’m not that deep. It was probably just gray outside when I wrote it.
What I should be saying is “thank you”. Thank you to all of you who read my ridiculous posts or poems. But please don’t “worry” about me. As you keep reading and you get to know me better you’ll see that I’m A-Okay. I’m just… more outspoken and opinionated than you’ve come to expect of me. And that’s okay, too.