Usually when I'm in a relationship I write way less than when I'm single. This is because I have someone to talk to about all the issues I generally write about. So the onus to write goes away, because the pressure is relieved.
But this relationship has been different on every level. Not only do I have someone to talk about, but I'm inspired to write more and I love it.
But for the last few days I've barely written anything I could post on my blog. There are several reasons for this.
First, because one of my friends started a blog for young adults and asked me to write a few articles for it. I'm one of a group of writers posting there. He asked me to write about coming home from Africa, and I did... except it's turning out to be a lot longer than I intended, and so much of my writing energy is going there.
Secondly, I've been fantastically busy with other projects, like writing my own Evolution/ Creation curriculum and trying to function without a home classroom while mine is flooded from the recent storms.
Third, and maybe most importantly, is the fact that my K.i.S.A. reads this blog. Not that it makes me nervous for him to read my writing, but since we're in a relationship, much of my writing is naturally going to be about him. And since this blog consists mostly of the questions I'm facing in life, I feel guilty writing about the questions I have in relation to him, lest he think I would let the whole world know my thoughts without talking to him first. And once I do talk to him, we resolve issues so quickly that there's nothing left to write about.
So I've been editing myself, keeping from writing the things I'm thinking about because I want to respect him by making sure I communicate properly rather than complain to other people, which is what I have tended to do in the past. But what this means for my blog is that you get the surface issues. The non-relationship issues.
Which you might like. You might prefer reading my "intellectual" thoughts and questions, rather than long treatises on feelings.
But perhaps the saddest reason for my lack of writing is that I tend to go through times of depression, and I struggle with insecurity and low self-esteem.
I don't believe my opinion is valuable.
I don't believe that I have the right to question.
I don't think that I should burden anyone-- not friends, not boyfriends, not total strangers-- with my questions, my value issues, my fears.
But that darkness in my soul grows, expands, takes over. I weep into my hands in the shower. I stare at my Bible, sitting on the table unopened. I cry out to God for relief, and it comes.
It comes eventually.
It comes, and I soldier on.
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