Write It Out!

December 6, 2007

I wake up with a low rumbling at the edge of my consciousness. I’m not immediately certain whether this is a headache or the angst of the night making a last protest and grab at my attention before receding at the approaching day. The sensation does not pass, though. It insists and takes hold, until I am forced to recognize it. It steals the tepid pleasure from the pale wintry sun trying weakly to push its sickly rays through the blinds across the room. It resonates with the sound of the alarm shrilling suddenly, as always 5 minutes too late. I’m already awake, or the next thing to it. The buzzing at the back of my head is now a throbbing. It is pain, but it is also memory, a feeling that is hanging on too long, according to my practical daily self, and the practical daily people who tell me to move on, let go, get over it. I placidly, obediently agree. I set my conditions, double my efforts, and refuse to give in.

It doesn’t go away, though. It stays there, buzzing, rumbling, throbbing, ready for the next grey morning, to remind me. It always infiltrates slowly, day after day, this knowledge of my unhappiness. I’m running out of options, though, of energy for fighting it, beating it down. Moving on, letting go, getting over it… that’s the easy part. The thing, though, that presence, that knowledge follows me, through my day, giving me respite only at night, knowing that it is waiting, hovering to push back in with my consciousness. It, memory, has to let go of me, and it hasn’t.

I’ve tried talking it out of me. I can’t do that any more. I’m the one who is talked out. I have attempted to cry it out, walk it out, think it out. It’s stubborn. It hangs on, as if with the primitive understanding that, once out, it will not be welcomed back. This is my next essay. This time, I will try to write it out. If I get the words just right, just write, it will fly from me, out the tips of my fingers, with those words, into space, into emptiness, I don’t care where.  I need to type the magic words, the sentence that will free of my self-imposed sentence. Can it be as simple as knowing the incantation? I suspect that even this apparently magical solution will not rid me of this burden.


4 Responses to “Write It Out!”

  1. Writing it out, particularly giving licence to your hand to put anything on the paper, can be incredibly revealing. I think it’s a right brain/left brain thing. When you write something down, you don’t have to ask your left brain’s permission to speak. It’s my favourite form of catharsis. Really, the only reliable form of catharsis I have.

    I hope it works for you, and even if it doesn’t offer solutions, I hope it offers a few moments of clarity.

  2. Ben Says:

    Stop being so hard on yourself! It’s not meant to come out perfectly the first time, straight onto paper or a screen. You have to let the sewn seeds grow. Then you have to harvest them. Then you separate the wheat from chaff. Only then can you start baking, and we’re still days away from something that tastes just right.

    It can take time to come, but it will always come in the end. Sometimes it roars and writhes inside of you, but it’s not ready to come out yet. It doesn’t know how. But it will.

    It will.

  3. bohemienne Says:

    That’s an interesting way of looking at it, Jess. Catharsis is definitely important. I hope that writing does it for me, too. Thanks.

    Ben, that seems like rather a long-term process. I want results, and I want them now! Impatient, me. And hungry, with your yummy baking metaphor.

  4. Gabriel Says:

    Hi Jess, really moved by your entry- I get weighed down with life’s struggles too and find I get blocked up if i don’t write something most days, sometimes I find poems get straight to the point/pain. Anyway, hope you manage to unload the burden somehow.

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