Dealing with myself,looking at the man in the mirror.

This post has nothing to do with writing or being a writer but maybe a little, depending on where it takes me. I finally managed to open up to a group of people tonight. Telling them some of the anguish and pain I have had to go through the past few months. It’s actually a huge step for me to open up to a group of people. I am dreadfully private and wary around people.

Ironically, it’s in my writing that I feel liberated to speak. As I conjure up stories, I inevitably write about my life. Write about my thoughts and aches and pains and anguish and joys. It through the channel of putting thoughts to paper, I find release. A non judgmental world where I can roam free.

Maybe it’s me, but writers seemed to be people who look at themselves in the mirror and seek avenues upon which they can describe the image that they see. Often times, attempting to mirror the image as a picture of what society or life should be like. But there’s a problem with the image in the mirror. It is a picture of a singular person and we may be faulted as being a narcissi when talking too much about one’s own self.

So tonight I looked at the man in the mirror and attempted to describe him to a group of people. In a small way, it was my way to deal with my own inner demons. A form of inner therapy, from which healing may take place. I’ve been through a lot the past few months. I’ve made mistakes and brought immense pain to those around me. Partly, because I’ve been a narcist about things and also a total ass. Couple that with stubbornness of the nth degree and an inability to listen to reason.

Unfortunately, that’s me.


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