And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
—Anais Nin
Fear is one of the most powerful emotions humans can experience.
I believe that fear is necessary and essential. It can warn you of danger, heighten your sense of self-preservation and serve as a warning system for you to use extra care and caution in a different situations.
Fear can also paralyze you.
I should know.
It’s been paralyzing me.
Oh, wait.
We’re not supposed to admit that, right?
Too bad, so sad.
I not only admit it, I am going to talk about it.
About 4 months ago I wrote and published the first part of 3-segment series about the most difficult thing I will EVER write or talk about…my suicide attempt following the death of my infant son and other things that are too long and painful to get into here.
It took me years and years to get up the courage to write and I had geared up for months trying to prepare myself for finally talking about what I consider my deepest pain and shame.
I wanted to not only free myself of the albatross that is perpetually hanging around my neck, but to also try to help others understand the mindset of someone beaten down to the point that they truly feel that the entire world would be better off without them in it. To reach out to those that are struggling and feel that there is just no way on this earth that they can get through. To try to give some shelter and comfort to those that have attempted to take their life and can’t or won’t talk about it because of sheer humiliation or embarrassment.
Although it was the very last thing of importance to me, the post was wildly popular, as online displays of such sadness, tragedy and spectacle are often wont to be.
It helped a lot of people and I am glad of that.
But the fall out for me was horrible.
I did not pick the timing to talk about it very well. It was a week away from the anniversary of the death of my son, which is always a difficult time. My new little Butterlump was almost the exact age as his older brother was when he died. Having an infant the same age as Matthew on the anniversary of his death was so painful I could barely breathe some days. To say that I was scared and worried that the same fate would befall little Aaron is an understatement.
Besides all this emotion hitting me at a very vulnerable time, that post was hell to write. There are a couple of issues in my life that often deliver me RIGHT back to the time they happened. It’s like I’m Quantum Leaping back to the thick of the moment. I can smell the same smells, hear the same sounds and worst of all…it feels the same.
I don’t feel like I have years of healing and coping behind me.
Not at ALL.
It often leaves me feeling as raw and new as if it happened yesterday.
It’s awful.
Very worst of the whole experience is that it hurt people I love and care about.
It wasn’t that they didn’t want me to write it or that I went against wishes…it was just an awful lot for them to read and re-live as well. It makes my eyes sting and my chest ache just thinking about it. My regret and sorrow for putting people through one more moment of pain after they have already been through so much because of me is huge.
So, on a personal level it was just a much tougher process than I anticipated. But I could probably have dealt with that if it were the only issue I had on my plate.
About the same time my post came out I watched and saw up close just how horrifyingly ugly the Internet can be. I am not talking about someone coming on your blog and being mad at something you write and being passionate and heated or even the occasional nasty troll or two. I am talking about sheer UGLINESS and on a big, huge scale. I have had my share of hate and crap and face-melting emails and comments (which never see the light of day or I delete as soon as possible) but I have never had it on a large scale of hundreds to thousands of people. When someone you love get hits with something like that, well…it’s a terrible and awesome thing to behold, people.
It is not pretty.
And it is freaking intimidating and awful.
I am human and have deeply hurt people. I have gotten angry. I have lashed out. Even though I am so imperfect and flawed, I genuinely love my fellow man and wish we were all a LOT kinder to each other. Yes, I am the idealistic dork that truly wishes we could all buy the world a Coke and hold hands with hippie wreaths in our hair and sing Kumbaya around a bonfire in the moonlight. When I see or get involved with backlash that causes people pain I hate it. Sometimes I can let it roll off my shoulders but far too often I am unable to.
I’ve been very unable to let anything roll off my shoulders lately.
I didn’t deal with the aftermath of this very well.
Fear of possible ugliness and judgment aimed at me online mixed with a hyper-vigilant worry about hurting my loved ones by something I would write started to choke the life out of me and this blog. I abandoned my series. I didn’t write part 2 or part 3 because I couldn’t.
I was too afraid.
So, I shut down.
I’ve hardly posted.
I’ve churned out product that I am not proud of. I am not looking for, nor want, a chorus of “No, your blog is SUPER AWESOME!” If you love my blog anyway, god bless you, but I am not proud of my blog in its current condition because I know what I am capable of and the stuff I have been putting out there IS NOT IT. I felt the weight of the muzzle I’ve put around myself keenly and it’s gotten to the point that it is worse than the fear that is pinning me in.
I am angry.
Not at you.
At me.
For my lack of backbone and courage. I tend to lean to the cowardly side with tissue paper for skin and I hate conflict. I have passed up endless opportunities to help, defend and protect out of sheer fear. It makes me ashamed to stand next to people that show nothing but bravery as they get virtually bitchslapped.
I will ALWAYS try to be considerate in my writing…that will not change. But I cannot believe that I have let myself become so twisted up in worrying what people are going to say about me that I would end up feeling disgusted and ashamed of one of the things I used to be so very proud of.
But I have.
I’ve literally worried myself sick.
Then something happened.
I opened my inbox and there was an email from BlogHer asking if it would be possible for me to finish writing my series for them to syndicate.
At first I thought, “HELLS, NO!”
But.
I started thinking about it bit by bit. I looked at what my blogging and real life has been like lately and the hole I have dug myself into and it was a painful picture. So, I went to the people that were closest to me, especially during all that hell and I asked them how they felt about me finishing the series. While all of them know it will not be fun for any of us to re-live, they all want me to write it. It’s like we all can sense it needs to be talked about and worked through.
So?
I am going to do it.
I still have worries, concerns and a WHOLE lot of doubt that I am a talented enough writer to accurately portray what happened while protecting people as much as possible, but I have got to try. I know that I will still have a lot of fear while I navigate the things called life and the Internet, I just have to not let it get the better of me.
I am going to finish my series and get this big freaking black rain cloud of doom the hell away from my head.
I’ve given away my personal power hand over fist for months and that stops today.
I am done.
Now, if you’ll excuse me?
I have some writing to do.