I haven’t written much lately because I feel that the nature of this blog can sometimes be self indulgent. There are much more important things going on in the world. Ferguson, Ghomeshi . . . how are my struggles even relevant?
I have been writing about disability professionally now for a few months, and I’ve realized that this ‘overcoming adversity’ story is one we’ve all heard before. I’ve read about it countless times now, written about it, researched it, and actively tried to find people to discuss different aspects of it with, like using psychotherapy to work through traumatic experiences or using physical therapy – as I do – to manage chronic pain.
This isn’t to express or believe that this narrative is unimportant, but I’ve realized that a work about adversity that I would write would be added to a bookshelf of thousands of others who have penned similar perspectives on life with a disability, whether it’s hereditary, the result of an accident, or the result of trauma (as mine is).
This isn’t to write that I will stop blogging, either. It’s just that the combination of journalistic work, disability focused writing for a different purpose, and increased awareness of the tiredness of my trope make me feel like there are more important things to write about, read about, and think about.
I have been trying to write a book for five years. I’m tired of thinking about it, trying to write, and feeling stuck all the time. I plan to work on it more consistently in the new year in both writing workshops and therapy sessions, but I am, honestly, very tired. I would rather be blogging about other more important things, and other things that matter to me and make me who I am.