Mental Health

Launching in 4…3…2…1

I’m excited for Launch Day!

Almost ready. Write, write, write. Edit, edit, edit.

Confession: I LOVE writing. Editing? Not so much. The editing I’ve done this week was brutal and took some of the shiny off of my motivation. This is where remembering the “Why?” comes in.

Why did I decide to start blogging again? Why did I decide that THIS is the blog I want to write?

The answer to the first question is a two parter:

  1. I’ve missed it. Simple. I’ve missed, not just writing, but I’ve also missed the engagement and interaction, the exchange that happens when the reader feels empowered to respond to what they’ve read, directly to the writer.

    We’re social beings. Being online, as a writer, and as a reader, isn’t necessarily a social experience. As a writer, I enjoy knowing that my writing is actually contributing to people’s lives. I don’t want to write just to read my writing. Just as I don’t talk to hear the sound of my own voice – usually. We all have our weak moments.

  2. I found an invitation in my spam folder, from The Ultimate Blog Challenge, a challenge I participated in back when blogging was new, fun, and exciting for me.

    These past three years took the wind out of my sails and drained the creativity and desire to write from me. I had been feeling like I’d lost and sacrificed a part of myself that made my life worth more than just being a survivor.

    I feel like there is purpose in my pain and that I have something to offer, which may give someone else a sense of hope when they didn’t think hope was possible.

Which leads me to the answer to the second question: Why do I want to write THIS blog?

I think that we all have more in common than we have that are different. I think Mental Health is something that concerns everyone everywhere. I believe that everything we all experience has an impact on our mental health and that of others.

So many times we look at someone else and see how they are different from ourselves. Based on those differences, we decide what, if anything, we have in common with them. We have these stories in our heads that tell us whether we can accept them or if we believe they can or will accept us.

I see where my homeless neighbor and I are different from each other. Do I speak to him and listen to his story or do I shy away because of how he looks or smells?

I see my neighbors who are immigrants from another country, possibly even refugees, and I hear them speaking their native languages with their friends and family. Their English has heavy accents and I have difficulty understanding their speech. Some of them may dress differently from me.

Do I choose to talk to them or do I assume that there are too many differences to even make an effort beyond saying, “hello”?

I hear the different music and ideas of life my other neighbors have. I see they have a different subcultural experience than I have. Do I allow these differences to keep me from listening to their experiences and get to know them better?

Am I willing to step outside of my comfort zone to get to know them enough to learn about our differences and discover where those differences may actually be things we have in common, just from a different experiential perspective?

All of these questions, all of these thoughts and ideas are in my head. That’s also where my mental health exists, in the brain inside of my head. How does my mental health impact my ability to answer these questions? How does it prevent or enable me to be open or closed to these different people?

My mental health impacts my relationships with these different people, and theirs does the same.

This is my “why.”

2017 Audre Lorde Differences2



1 thought on “Launching in 4…3…2…1”

  1. My mental illness impacts my interactions or relationships with people negatively. I have always been afraid of people. I begged my mother to let me quit going to kindergarten. One of the teachers told me I needed to learn how to tie the bows on my dresses. I knew I couldn’t do that since they were located in the back of my dresses, so I was terrified to go back. What would she do to me if I couldn’t tie my bows?

    My father abused me as a child. I learned to trust no one. All my adult life I felt uncomfortable around people. It has gotten worse as I aged, even though I’ve been through a lot of therapy. So, I’ve finally given up trying and rarely leave the house. I feel happy at home and happiest when everyone (husband and mother) goes to bed and I’m all alone. Well, I do have God, and he makes me happy.

    I’m 67 now. I actually love people. I feel like it is an honor to meet a person, even once, because we are all amazing creatures whom God loves. So, it’s nothing against anyone that I don’t want to see them. It is that I hate myself after being with people. I fear I said the wrong thing or acted stupid. Sometimes that is true! Lol Well, sorry, maybe I shared too much. But I have an excuse. I’m not Neurotypical.


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