Writing Letters

When I feel at odds with the world, at odds with myself or confused with my situation, I write.

Sometimes it's a letter, oft-times it's a short story and from time to time it's just a long spilling out of disjointed thoughts.

Now, a lot of the time, this writing is just for me, or for a dear and close friend. Sometimes I write something completely stupid, I offend those around me, and because it is in fact written, I can't easily take it back. It's just as bad with my spoken words. I can be a bit of a hothead, I know this, I do NOT know when to step back and just shut up, I keep talking and digging myself in deeper, and deeper, and deeper until I can no longer see the light of day, let alone the person I was speaking with. Because they've high-tailed it out of here.

Honestly, you'd think after 52-nearly-53 years on Terra Firma, I'd have understood this about myself, I'd have learned to keep my thoughts to myself until fully formed and coherent, but, oh no.

Well... until now. Now I have learned this hard lesson, now I am applying it to my life.

Now that it's too late.

So, what I have decided to do is to write again. I need this outlet here, I need to communicate, I must be allowed to express how I feel or I shall explode. It's therapeutic for me. None of YOU need to read this, it's mostly just for me, it's how I need to cope with overwhelming changes going on around me. How I need to find my Northern Star, fix a course and attempt to tack my way through these stormy seas ahead. Come about. Beware of the boom. And try not to fall overboard.

The information I will put here will have little to do with my children, as I know 'certain individuals' still stalk me through this medium. However, there comes a time when you need to stand up to bullies, to people who would attempt to control your life, a life they no longer have any hold over whatsoever.


So, leave me alone, you know who you are, go find your own life and control that, you hear?


I shall be here writing letters, lots of them. The difference now is that I will re-read these letters, these missives, these musings; I will carefully edit them, I will ruminate over my different turns of phrase as I consider my words, as I reflect and contemplate, hold them up to the light and turn them this way and that. You see, in many ways, it's rather a labour of love what I am doing. Loving myself enough to effect change IN myself. Letting myself reach out and offer my words as little pieces of my soul.

The biggest difference between before and now is that even though I shall be crafting my words into what represents my self, in all possibility, in all certainty, I will never, ever send all of them.

Because sometimes, not hitting send is the very best thing you can do.

There... I already feel much better. All things considered.