In my post, I can’t write…I’m no writer, I discussed the benefits, and possible pitfalls of putting your thoughts into words and maybe be laying them out on the internet so that they might be shared
There has been a interesting response to this post pointing out that, at times such recorded thoughts should be kept as a private folder, rather than being put on public display
This raises an interesting choice of actions so, for those considering either course of action, I have decided to look at both options side by side. To begin with though I’ll begin one more with a S.W.O.T analysis on private stoarge in a folder publication
When I began writing about my own history of depression, and even more so my special project Dealing with the blues, such a crossroad lay before me. Would I go private and try and deal with my problems on my own, or would I “fess up” publicly, and see what came of it
I admit it was tough call,as such decisions are never easy, but in the end it all came down to a question of tools. i.e
1/Did I have the tools to deal with such inner revelations
2/Did I have the tools to deal with any growth that might occur
3/Did I have the tools to deal with any problems if such revelations threatened to tun out of control
Quite frankly I didn’t know the answers to any of the questions at that time, but I was at such a low point when I began writing about my feelings that such answers were insignificant
I had to get the feelings out, and I had to make an attempt to find some kind of resolution. Well I’ve been lucky, very lucky, although I nearly failed in such an enterprise, and here I am now.
Yet what if I had not been so lucky, what if I had no such tools to begin with, and no further tools to deal with what might occur?
Well, after I first tried to commit suicide, I had no tools, and I feel it is only appropriate to pass on this somewhat cautionary tale
The ingestion of 60 Paracetamol tablets is scarcely a wise thing to do your body, but whatever pain I suffered then, let alone humiliation,was nothing to my subsequent “chats” in the psychologist or psychiatrists chair
I ma sure that such an experience rings many a bell with various readers, but I can only speak of my own experiences.
The idea of such treatment was simple,as in essence all I had to do was talk, listen to myself, and learn. Yet the reality was so very different
For a start I was painfully ashamed at even going into the hospital grounds, let alone into the psychiatric unit, and once there, all I wanted to do was to run and hide. Once inside things got even tougher, as it was as though I to clear out my own overflowing and stinking sewage farm which had filled up over the years. Not only that, I had to do so with an observer, a note taking observer, by my side.
Pit, by pit, and line pipeline by pipeline I cleared that farm, or cleared as much as I could take mentally, and all to soon a huge mound of vintage sewage rose up by my side
I didn’t have any tools to dispose of such crap though. I had none, at that stage none were made available, so I ended up lower and weaker than when I began the process, but with a huge mound of sewage by my side
I don’t blame the doctors as I am sure they were only following NHS guidelines, but all that happened was that the crap sunk back from whence it came from,only to be disinterred years down the line
So I would simply that you alone can and must decide on an appropriate course of action, but whatever course you chose to follow, I wish you well, but to end on a positive note I leave you a quote about writing, and once more a relaxation video; both of which I hope you enjoy
“Write it. Just write it. Write it on receipts in the car while you wait for your kid to finish their piano lessons, scribble on napkins at lunch with friends. Type on crappy typewriters or borrow computers if you have to. Fill notebooks with ink. Write inside your head while you’re in traffic and when you’re sitting in the doctor’s office. Write the truth, write lies. Write the perfect spouse. Write your dreams. Write your nightmares. Write while you cry about what you’re writing, write while you laugh out loud at your own words. Write until your fingers hurt, then keep writing more. Don’t ever stop writing. Don’t ever give up on your story, no matter what “they” say. Don’t ever let anybody take away your voice. You have something to say, your soul has a story to tell. Write it. There is never any reason to be afraid. Just write it and then put it out there for the world. Shove it up a flag pole and see who salutes it. Somebody will say it’s crap. So what? Somebody else will love it. And that’s what writing’s about. Love. Love of the art, love of the story, and love for and from the people who really understand your work. Nobody else matters. Love yourself. Love your work. Be brave. Just write.”
― Melodie Ramone