If I ever collect these blogs into a novel about writing (and life, i.e. King) I am going to need to devote a chapter to writing through pain and misery. Only in the last few weeks have I been giving serious consideration to what is required to upkeep my mental health. I spent years of my youth in therapy and all it succeeded in doing was tamping down or masking my anger and subconsciously convincing me to go into counseling later in life.
Lately that anger has emerged like some long buried foe. It is largely self-directed and it consumes me. I am angry about how my life is turning out, how my relationship is turning out, and while I should be able to use all that–channeling it into words–I cannot. I’m too close to the emotional hurt to do anything more than try to escape from the self-loathing and pain by playing games. Perhaps I could find a way to use this to help people who are going through this as well. Perhaps their anger is outward–which while different, may not be easier.