Whoa. I never in a million years would have guessed that I would start a blog. But here I am. I’d like to think this was on a whim, and to some extent it is, but I needed a place where I could semi-publicly write. There is an air of danger for me. Yes, I am a wimp. A scardy-cat. And way too shy for my own writerly good.
Let me tell you a bit about myself. I’m a 51 year-old woman who was raised in rural Minnesota by Lutherans. (My mother is still alive, but as she doesn’t own a computer, I’m okay to write how that affects me and I will do so in future blogs.) Anyway, I was a goodie-two-shoes growing up. My father was a Highway Patrolman based in a very small town and everyone knew us. If I so much as parked too far away from the curb, someone would crack a joke about it to my father and then I would hear it. On top of that, I hung out with the Baptist preacher’s daughter and the school superintendent’s daughter. So, I grew up always looking over my shoulder to see who was watching.
This is when my daydreaming kicked into full gear. No one could see what was in my head but me. I was the person I always wanted to be when I was in my daydreams. This is where I really felt free.
Many years later, I fought off a deep depression. Most of the fight was a combination of anti-depressants and journaling. When I felt the need to wean myself off the anti-depressants, journaling became my lifeline to sanity. I journal everyday.
Here is the crux of my whole writing problem: I’m a goodie-two-shoes who is afraid to go back to that dark side of herself for fear of bringing the depression back. Therefore my writing is surface only. There is nothing there to grab on to. Nothing to dive into. It sucks. And I’ve stopped writing because of it.
But something, SOMETHING draws me back to the page. Something is here. What is it?
I think it is the next step in my daydreams. What do you think?