Writing is an outlet for my anxiety and depression. It becomes a type of therapy. Writing the thoughts that won’t stop spinning in my head. I started sharing because I thought it could benefit others. Also, I have to admit; I shared in part because it helped my mental health to share. It gave me purpose. It gave me a feeling like I was worthy. I could do something.
Now it’s been a few months since I started my blog and shared my writing. I would be lying if I said it hasn’t been challenging at times. I often feel lost. I often feel that I have no idea what I’m doing. It seems almost contradictory to have anxiety and depression and try to write a blog.
It’s vulnerable. It’s scary. Anxiety makes me question if it’s worth writing about. Not only the subject matter but myself. Is my story, my life worth sharing? Are my words worth writing? What will people think of me? Will people only see me as anxiety and depression? Is writing about it only giving more power to my anxiety and depression? Is it helping or hindering me? Is helping or hurting others? Do I explain things the right way? Do I write enough? How do I choose what to share? Anxiety has me question a lot of what I’m doing. It’s not always easy to ignore those thoughts.
Depression makes it difficult to follow through at times. I sometimes get these ideas for what to write about. I think about it. I get excited about it. When it comes time to write, I often do not have the energy. Trying to think of writing it all seems like too much. Trying to follow through – promote your blog. Try to take care of SEO. Try to post a regular schedule. Trying to keep up. Trying to get more views. I can’t always do it.
My point is anxiety and depression make it hard to keep up with my blog. To think I’m worthy of writing it. Worthy of sharing it. Wondering if writing makes me look “stupid”. My anxiety and depression go against everything that has to do with writing this blog. It’s incredibly difficult. Many times my head is filled with voices and thoughts telling me to stop writing and sharing. To delete it. To live my life more hidden. But I don’t. I can’t. This blog may never get more than 200 followers or read by more than 500 people in a day, but it helps me. If my anxiety and depression are telling me to stop, that means I have to fight for it more. It may be contradictory, but that is what makes it even more important to share.