Things I Never Thought I'd Do...

So, theoretically, I should be studying for a COM Theory test, but I'm a little hyped up and writing is a stress reliever, so you are once again graced with the presence of my sarcasm. That is assuming that people actually read this. And you've heard what they say about assuming. But let us pretend for a few minutes that I live in my happy delusional world…

The reason I'm not studying is probably a good place to start. It could be said that I'm just being a procrastinator, but that's not the case. And I'm not just saying this because I know my mom reads this (Hey, look. One reader.). I'm saying this because I submitted a form to make my first chapel announcement. Granted, this should not be that hard, but when you're afraid of speaking publicly, it's like taking a small child to the top of the diving board, pushing them close to the edge and saying, "Hey kid. Sink or swim."

Not so much.

But as president of my chapter of Sigma Tau Delta (what a mouth-full), it was going to happen because we don't technically have PR people. [Please insert dramatic sigh here.]

But I'm trying to panic too much. The announcement is scripted. Bonus, right?

No.

You know what happens to a nervous person when they have something scripted. They can't read it. Their eyes flitter across the page. They lose their spot. They stutter. The "Um"s come out. The "Er"s and "Uh"s quickly make an appearance. They fidget. They talk too fast that no one even knows what just came out of their mouth. And sometimes they don't even read what's on the page and embarrass themselves even more.

Now you don't have to wonder why my anxiety kicked in a little bit. You've all been there. But this leads me to my point.

Two and a half years ago, I'd never thought I'd be doing anything I'm doing right now. I never thought I'd be president of my chapter of the English Honor Society. I never thought I'd be president of my social club. Heck, I didn't even think I've be part of a social club. I never thought I'd have made the friends I have now. I didn't think I would have conquered my fears. I never thought I'd work the night shift. I never thought I'd have a blog. I never thought I'd be very open on my blog. I never thought I'd have taken a train 36(ish) hours. I never thought I'd be in a relationship. Normal, everyday drama aside, I never thought I'd be this happy--that there'd be a smile on my face before I went to sleep that night.

But I am so very lucky.

And as this week progresses into next, I have to keep that in mind. Painful memories come and go, but I have to hold on to the happy ones that kept me going through the rough. I have to look at the memories where things were good and not focus on the bad and utterly depressing. I have to look forward.

Why?

Because no matter how bad, things are good.

Life is good.

And I never thought I'd be this optimistic.

Finding Something to Write About

Most people complain because they don't have the idea. They embrace the idea that their muse has left them and they are lost and alone in a work of jumbled words--waiting for something to come together to make sense before their mind explodes and they are left with the ashes of plain nothingness.

Others complain they don't have the time. Life is too full of events and activities that claim the spare moments they used to take and express themselves. There is a want for a pen. A want to feel the white grains caress the palm of their hand as they draft pages upon pages of thoughts they couldn't keep bottled up any longer.

I'll admit that I've suffered from both. I felt like my muse had left me. I felt alone and a longing for a character to whisper a small fragment that I could weave into a full-blown idea.

I also suffer from not having enough time. Being a student is never easy (unless you take putt classes). And the further along you pursue your degree, the less time you have. You add obligations. You get elected to be in charge. You take upper level course. You build on relationships. You start relationships. You ask yourself why do you still have high school drama in your life. You work. You don't sleep. You go and go until you're exhausted and think you can't go any farther…

And then you go some more.

It's a hard life.

But everyone does it.

And there are those other moments. The ones that are rarer. They are usually of the writer's own accord. Those are the moments when you don't want to write. It's not because the inspiration is gone. It's not because there isn't time. It's something much more. Something deeper.

It's a loss of the will to write.

Sad, I know. But so often true.

For some writers this is paralleled by a loss of the will to go on. Depression has set in and you are slowly losing your mind.

For others it's a loss of self-worth. They think their writing holds no value. They think every word scribbled on paper is nothing. There's not merit. It's just trash.

And this is what kills the writer.

Everyone can write. I don't care if they believe it or not. They can. It's finding the right thing to write about. Each person can say something in a way that no one else can. They hear and see words in a way no one ever thought of. Each person is individually unique.

I'm always awed when I read a post by a woman who's blog I follow religiously. She struggles up and down with depression and other social disorders. But she fights to write. She found what she needed to write about and she made her story heard. I can only endeavor to one day be like that. To stand up and tell the world that I have something important to say in regard to myself.

But until then, I'll just write on a thought that comes to mind. Hoping that someday I'll be able to help someone the way others have helped me.

Until then I leave you with words of wisdom.

A friend of mine once said something in class that I'll never forget. One young woman told a group of us that the story we were reading was not her best. She had reservations about the whole project. He looked blatantly at her and told her, "Embrace your trash."

So this is my encouragement to you. Find something to write about. Write it. No one will see it the way you do. No one will feel it the way you do. Write about it. Talk about it. Tell the world. Even if it ends up no good, keep it. Hold it for everyone to see. Keep it for no one to see. It's yours.

Live for it.

And embrace your trash.