Freewrite

I feel like writing, even tho I don't have anything to say. I want the words to pass through my fingers like water through mesh. Holding them and their meanings but briefly in my mind. I want to create, but I have no idea what I want to say. Funny how when I was younger and less secure I didn't feel I deserved my voice or my creativity. I told myself so much what I was not, never realizing that I was only just becoming. I was so afraid of failing or looking stupid that I didn't dare let myself be heard or seen.

I recently deleted FB and Insta from my phone, and I am not visiting these sites anymore. I haven't deleted my accounts yet, tho. I tell myself I still have some photos there I want to save. But I have tired of following strangers that I only know through social media. And the actual people I do know irritate me on social media. Why must you document everything you do? I have been around these people when they are out having "fun." So much time is spent documenting. I suppose that is fun for them, but I don't really get it. Taking pics of your kids and family is fine, but posting every single thing makes me really resentful. No doubt in part because they are having fun while I struggle (and fail) to take care of all my chores and take care of all my work responsibilities. And read as much as I wanted to, and spend some time with my kids, no doubt watching TV and not taking them outside. Social media just made me feel bad about myself. I am not enough and I don't want to talk to you. I want to be private; I don't want to engage; I don't like people. Which of course is not true, but I was beginning to feel that way.

But then there is Twitter. I don't even read the news. I do listen to NPR, but I find out most news by reading the reactions of other lefties on Twitter. And I have no solutions and I don't really want to change myself. Because I am naturally right in my views and so are the people I follow, otherwise I wouldn't follow them. But personal acquaintances. That's a different story. So many of them are aliens to me now. What I care about, what I can do for entire weekends, summers off, what-have-you, these activities would be impossible for my old acquaintances. Alcoholics that they are. I am really grateful for my real life. I am so grateful I yanked the fucking gauze off my eyes and got right. I am so proud of my husband and us. And I'm not lonely anymore. I've got me.