Friday, May 06, 2011
Sharing my words
I am not a social person anymore, not like I once was. Call it social phobia if you want; but isn't really that per se. I no longer want to have to explain to others my depression which I feel is a failure of mine. I no longer have the energy and stamina required for social gatherings. I no longer want to spend money at social events. So I seclude myself, make a smaller social circle, and relish making new friends who need no explanations.
But these are few. I don't knock doors to spill my guts out in the name of confiding in friends. The whole truth of who I am can only be handled by very few who can stand the test of dealing with someone who is clinically depressed, for a long time.
So I put them in written words. Monologues. Soliloquys. Poetry, to shroud my pain in cryptic words. I have a right to write and that is what I do to retire from repression. I write to also alleviate the burden of the act of my confiding, because no human, even the sum of a few humans, can bear it all at once.
And that reminds me to come here more often, to write, to not repress, to keep my book open, after finally having the courage to open it, after years of repression.
Twitter has been an easy medium for me to be real, to confide, to not repress. What I say on Twitter sometimes concerns others, irritates some. But I don't tweet to need to be read. Just as I don't blog to need to be read. If you want to read me, I'm blessed, but do read me right. If you are already reading me and have accepted my confidence, you are en route to being a friend and comforter to one who may truly need you. Whether or not you can stand the test of reeling in my depression symptoms when I write them, that is an extra hurdle in friendship-building that unfortunately is very-present from me.
I do need people in my life. As I was instructed sternly by my psychiatrist from the beginning, I cannot live alone, which means I cannot be emotionally alone. With all that I have written here this night, it means only more certainly that I have to write - blog, tweet - more, as I truly am.
Vulnerability begets vulnerability, and my words are the extrinsic being that represents my own vulnerability. Share me with you too. Or skip reading me. Or just read me silently. I will never stop writing me. Words are much of who I am, a necessity, like air is to breathing, writing is - to my life.