Move

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Move
It’s January 2 and I’m still going strong with my new year resolutions. The newfound ambition has not faded yet, and I feel productive. To keep it that way, I decided to write every single day. Some of it might end up on the blog, the rest will disappear in random folders on my hard drive. It’s more about practice and less about quality at the beginning. Crank out the set word count. Keep going, no matter what. It might seem to make no sense to any reader, but as the writer, I don’t fucking care. As long as I feel good about my writing, I’ll continue to do so. Good writing is 10% talent, 90% working on your shit. I know that I’m decent, but it took a lot of time and practice to feel comfortable on the level I am right now. But I don’t wanna be comfortable! You need to break free, leave your comfort zone, be uncomfortable.
Usually, that would trigger my anxiety. I would never even dream to leave my zone. I would zone out and just stop. Moving forward is scary. Looking ahead is fucking scary. To learn not to look back on your mistakes, failures, and regrets at this moment is hard. I have to. Inhale. Exhale. Unlearn toxic behavior and focus on what you want. If you figured out what you want, get it. Do everything you can to get to the point of reaching your goal. You have to remember this every single day. Stay in your lane. Move. It’s hard, I know. Saying all these words is hard. Someone has to say them. Part self-care, part motivational speech.
Do you notice that I won’t detail my struggles? What really my experiences are? I’m too scared to share them with anyone. Even in an intimate environment, I shy away. I don’t want to be vulnerable to others. Not that I think I’m strong; it’s much more complex than that. It would open up the possibility of being hurt by people you trust and love. But I also deny myself the opportunity to be heard, to heal, to come out of this stronger than before. I need to find a way that allows me to be the person that I am for others in need of support. It doesn’t mean I’m powerless or weak, it allows me to admit that I cannot be strong and fierce all the time. I have a long way to go to get to this point. Allowing myself to be vulnerable without feeling I drown in my emotions, because I keep them inside. Locked in a little box. A box full of fear, anger, desire. You cannot possibly keep everything to yourself without going batshit crazy at one point. Or break down because the weight of the box is destroying you slowly. It took me a while to realize that I have to stop doing that to myself. It’s dangerous, and unhealthy. And it keeps me from moving on.
Stop. Re-evaluate. Look ahead. Go!

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