Writer's block

Quote of the day:

Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to. Mark Twain

Thinking about shame. I am aware that my recent writer's block is connected to feeling shame. I realize that I use ancient pains to prevent myself from self-expression. And yet, self-expression has always been the one way I was able to crawl out from the abyss. My old wounded soul is infested with shame, shame, shame.

It is shameful to admit feeling shame. It is painful, therefore, to confront it head and heart on. It feels humiliating to myself to feel the nagging agony that I am worthless. I remember Bob-the-therapist telling me over and over again that these were family stories/myths that were invented about me. They were not true - not connected to reality. He gave me permission not to believe them. And when he would notice that I was wavering and starting to believe them again, he would repeat and repeat the same message to counteract them: "You are worthwhile. You are a good person. I will never leave you no matter what." An antidote. His antidote. As I slide into these feelings I claw my way out by remembering Bob's words. But by then the day has slipped by and not a word has been written.

There is no way out for me now. I just have to admit that shame is at the source, the very core of my childhood psyche. I will have to explore it, hold still with it, and come to know it intimately, the texture, smell, sound, sight of it, before I am able to walk away. There is no way around it and running away has brought me full circle, face-to-face with it once again. If I was an artist, I would paint shame in intense, vibrant, striking colors, and if I was a poet I would write words that penetrate deep into the reader's soul and take their breath away.

One of the ways that I have decided to embrace my shame is by reading about it. In one self-therapy page I found, I read that the childhood psychological message was: "I can and will treat you any way I want to ... you are a worthless weakling at my disposal." Although I have known about this (I have worked with young children for thirty years for goodness sake!), somehow these words had a positive effect on me. They made me rise up inside and want to defend that little girl ... the inner child. It gave me back my fight for me.

I am starting to make a list of ways I can fight for me:

• Stay close to and visit people who love and value me
• Take hot bubble baths and eat good foods
• Keep toxic, energy vampires at bay
• Hold still with the discomfort
• Tell myself the truth about me
• Learn to make shame into my friend and not an enemy
• Write down all the times I have survived the shame abyss
• Remember who my real friends are

I am sure that more will come to me. Right now I am wrapping my arms around my blog in gratitude for being here to accept my pain and confusion as I try to work some of this stuff out. I remember that last night I dreamed Ada was giving birth to darling, tiny kittens and I was helping her. Yeah! I remember that compassion has always been one of my strengths.

I think I will add that to my list:

• Write down all my strengths ...
• ... write it down ... write it down ...
• ... write it ...
• ... just ... WRITE

Love ... throw [me] a line ...

A year ago at Tamarika: Tagged

Comments

[tamarika]

Jean,
This description of how we change and the depth and slow-ness of it is so beautiful. I agree so much. Yes, I do sense that this next book is big for me. It is related to stuff I have been thinking about for so many years - it is like a dream for me. And I fear it by the same token because who knows where it will lead me. My first book opened my heart and mind to me in ways that I least expected.

[Jean]

Yet another post from you that went so deep with me that no comment seemed adequate. A few days before I read this I had been talking to a cousellor who has become a kind of friend, we appreciate one another so much, and finally making - I think - some very important connections; starting to see (no, not just to see - to believe) that progress with change, creativity, fulfilment in life has to be worked on, and waited for, from two perspectives simultaneously. On the one hand, cultivating better habits, 'doing it anyway' - the stuff that meditation, yoga, exercise, regular work habits help with. On the other, accepting that sometimes this is not enough; sometimes if progress is unduly, inexplicably slow, it's because deep, deep stuff from the very centre of life and identity has to shift along with the particular project in hand. This is true for me with my wish to move from London and have a different lifestyle. It is therefore very slow, but, oh, if I manage, however slowly, to do it, I think it will be really big change this time. So I read this and had an image of a big piece of you healing up as you write your second, and no doubt very important, book. What a wonderful image. Worth all the pain, all the slowness. Life-changing indeed.

[tamarika]

Neil,
I like what you have to say. It makes so much sense. One of my problems is that, in fact, I have been "shamed" for my writing, and it has tapped into deeper, early childhood feelings. I am trying to rid myself of it because intellectually I know a) that shame and writing are not connected, and b) those who shamed me have their own problems. That is to say: it's not about me!

What makes me so happy about your comment is:

"You are free to express yourself to others. We will always back you up."

I guess I need to be reminded that sometimes as I become closer to feeling more comfortable with myself.

Thanks so much.

[Neil]

I'm sorry to hear that you have these feelings gnawing at you at times. But I have complete confidence that you will work things out. The first thing you should do is disconnect your writing from your "shame." They have nothing to do with each other. You are free to express yourself to others. We will always back you up. The hard part is not with us or with the writing, but getting yourself to be comfortable with yourself.

[tamarika]

These are big comments that have given me so much to think about. I was thrilled to have TherapyDoc over for a visit and certainly stopped by to read your post which was interesting indeed! Thanks for all the ideas and tips about how to and the why's etc. Making amends made me smile. I have the feeling that I think by now I've paid the fine, my dues, and as the Jeff Bridges character in "Fisher King" says, have paid my fine and want to go home!

Ilene,
I appreciated your input very much indeed. Man oh man - you *are* such a good writer! I adore how you have worded the challenges and complexities of feeling. And I recognize a fellow, nay, *sister*-traveller. I feel tremendously lucky to be developing this friendship. Thank you so much.