#BlogLife37 - Can I ask you something?

Good morning :)

I really didn't get much sleep last night. I kept waking up thinking it was morning but it was very early am. I got back to sleep but woke up again and just decided to get up.

I'm sorry there was no BlogLife yesterday but I decided to switch off and enjoy doing hardly anything. I caught up with a friend, I finalised plans for tomorrow.

I gamed and watched some movies. That was it. My brain was trying to come up with something to write but unlike today it was broken pieces.

As I was getting changed today, my brain was just relaying ideas back to me.

Why do you like reading personal blogs?

I realised that I am looking for someone I can relate to. There are clinical blogs that have all the answers and just lay it out for you.

It can be helpful and informative but it's not what I'm looking for. I want a person that is struggling, just like I am. Obviously I don't wish them to be lost.

However it is helpful if they are unsure of themselves because that I can understand. It makes me feel connected and less isolated.

It is extremely intimidating to seek out knowledge and finally locate it, just to figure out, you still don't comprehend it. The author makes it seem easy but I shrug and think. 

Nope. I still don't get it. At least if someone else is questioning it. I feel a bit better.

Why do you write fiction posts? Why not just keep it to regular?

Thinking back when I first got started into blogging, I still wasn't thinking about writing a book. I was solely focused on trying to find a way to open up and still feel safe.

The more I wrote, the easier it became. At first I composed fiction to express myself without actually going into details. I had a lot of pain buried.

Things happened that I didn't want to recall but I desperately needed to release the emotions that went with it. I was quite astounded when it worked.

I had found a loophole. I take private steps to deal with certain issues but publically I needed an outlet. That is where fiction came into play.

Anger. Depression. Sadness. Happiness and hopelessness. I just needed to let it out.

As time wore on and the fictional pieces got more detailed. That is when I thought. I need to try again and write a book.

How is it you switch between being confident/happy to being insecure/sad?

I knew there was going to be a difficult one to close. There are a lot of factors that are the cause. I could be pleased, looking forward to an event but then the reality sets in.

How long will it take? 

How much walking is involved? 

Can I find an outfit I'll feel good wearing? 

What if I start to feel poorly or the pain intensifies?

I start to feel a lil less self-assured and more panicky. This exciting outing now has me feeling unsure.

The problem is that these are valid concerns. My only course of action is make sure my headphones are charged so that if I am unwell, at least music will soothe me.

I don't take medication and it isn't always possible to stop and rest. Especially if I am not alone. Whoever I am accompanying rushes for the bus and urges me to do the same. 

I prefer to take my time and walk. They don't take that into consideration and I feel bad saying. 

"Hey um, if you cause me to rush and walk fast.

You are increasing my pain. My body is somewhat fine when I leisurely walk but when you ask me to speed, it does not end well."

It isn't a big deal if I miss a bus. I also opt for half empty or transport where I am guaranteed a seat. I know it's not always feasible.

But short journeys are thoroughly exhausting. My body is crying out for a rest and the buses are so jerky that the grip on the handle is so tight, my hands suffer badly.

Now add a face mask to this and everything is worse. It's hard to breathe. I feel as though my lenses are fogging up. I feel light-headed. 

I'm extra tired and overall I feel poorly. I have to contend with that, every time I leave my home.