I often cry when I write. I cry because something I have written is real. It is cathartic to see the truth in words in front of you.
I also cry when I write something phoney. I cry from embarrassment. I did that a lot more often last year then I have in my whole life. I have learned my lesson and it will not happen again.
So here I am, writing every day, and crying every day. Is this a good thing? Does forcing myself to think about the things that make me fearful and unhappy serve anyone? what am I trying to accomplish?
I want to believe that by exploring my own pain I will come out on the other side of this with something. Maybe it will be insight into my struggle and an answer to my sorrow. Maybe it will inform my friends and family about why I haven’t been able to give them what they need from me. Maybe I will find purpose.