A New Year

Hi. It’s me. I’ve risen from the dead. Again. *sigh*

a new year
So last year around this time I wrote something about New Year's Resolutions being crap, and about starting a blog challenge that I only followed through on to day 3. It’s weird reading it back. It seems like a totally different person. It also seems like I was trying to say resolutions are crap while inadvertently setting resolutions and then not following through on them. In fact, all of 2016 wasn’t too great of a year for blogging. I only posted 18 times, compared to 46 in 2015. I’m also seriously worried about my skills, as I don’t think the posts are that great. But not everything we write is gold, right? And that’s how we get better. We write, and then we keep writing, and then when we think we’re the worst writer on earth, we write some more. And maybe someday it pays off. It’s when we stop writing (or doing other creative things) that we have to worry.

I’ve been in a weird space lately. I was feeling happy the few days leading up to Christmas, but I think it was mainly because it’s hard not to get excited about Christmas to some degree. And I don’t just mean presents. I mean everything that Christmas represents. Love, family, giving, just being with the people you care about. It has a kind of happiness that sneaks in when you’re not looking. At least it did for me this year. I understand that some people can have a hard time at Christmas, and that it isn’t a good time for them. And I don’t have much I can say about that. Saying “you’re sorry” or “that’s unfortunate” doesn’t really cut it. All you can really do is listen to someone if they’re hurting at Christmas. But for a lot of us, Christmas is generally happy.

But after Christmas this year, I struggled. I had a rough couple of days. I don’t think anyone really noticed because I don’t tell people when I’m struggling. And I know that sounds kind of bad. I’ve often wondered if I should talk to someone, but for whatever reason (usually money, and me not thinking it’s necessary), I decide not to. I deal with the dark thoughts through writing and through talking with God. I say “talking” instead of “praying” because I don’t want to give the impression that I’m on my knees asking God to take away the pain or something (although there is nothing wrong with that). Rather I’m sitting on my bed crying to Jesus about all the fears and the doubts I have, telling him about how I feel broken and I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. And He listens. He just lets His presence be there and He listens to my pain.

What’s been bothering me the most lately is doubt. I’ve been doubting myself. It’s one thing to work toward a goal and believe even when you’re not getting very far with it. It’s another thing entirely to start think maybe you just can’t do it. Maybe you’re never going to get to where you want to be. Not because of outside influences, but because you can’t do it. You’re not good enough. You’re not strong enough. You just can’t make it. (To clarify, these are doubts. I’m not saying I believe this all the time. But sometimes I lose faith in myself and I lose hope that I have for the future).

I didn’t mean for this blog post to get this personal or this sad. I didn’t mean for it to be this long. I was only going to write a couple of paragraphs about how I didn’t do so great last year, but this year things were going to be different. Something on the surface. Something that didn’t really matter. That didn’t bear my soul to the world. That didn’t make me worry about whether someone I know will see this and what they’ll think of me.

I don’t really know what to do. I want to be honest on my blog, but I want to keep things “safe” too. But I don’t think those two things are compatible. I also don’t know if anyone even cares. I’m just writing down my thoughts. Perhaps you find them quite boring. But somehow when I try to write posts that don’t go very deep into my life they end up being a little fluffy. Not too bad, but, they’re just not that great, you know? Not that I’m saying the type of post I’m writing is great. But at least it’s real. It’s not fluff. It’s not “how can I write about a topic I don’t care about and then relate it to my book so that people will buy it?” I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should just give up blogging and just post updates about my books on my blog. I still have Twitter and Instagram to connect with readers. Maybe I don’t need a blog. But then again almost every writing advice article or blog will tell you that you need a blog. Problem is, I kind of suck at blogging.

If you like this kind of post could you please tell me? I don’t care if you leave a comment on the blog, or Twitter, Instagram, or G+. Could you just tell me that you liked it, if you did, or if it helped you somehow? Maybe you’re a little uncertain about things like me, or in a weird space right now. Feel free to tell me about that. I don’t get many messages, so chances are I’ll respond to you. Anyway, try to have a good start to 2017. Even though this post is kind of sad(?) I do have hope for the future. I just don’t always remember it. Maybe I’ll write a happier post in a few days.


Comments

  1. I was touched by the stark honesty of this post. And whilst sorry to hear that Emily is struggling, I was weirdly given hope in hearing that someone else has similar feelings of doubt and failure that I have. Emily speaks to her god to help her deal with things, I choose alcohol. Even though it doesn't work.

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    1. Thanks for your comment, Tim. I'm glad that this gave you some inspiration, and that I'm not in this alone. I've often wondered about alcohol, but I've never really gotten into it. Had a bad experience with it and now peach coloured dove soap makes me a little queasy. Hopefully 2017 will be better for both of us.

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