Scared Bunny

I'm scared to write.

I don't mean that in the way I have said certain stories aren't told because I am scared that the person or persons involved will unleash on me making me miserable and making this blog unreadable. The stories from my marriage aren't going to be told period, so why be scared. I don't write those stories because I don't want to. They are ours and ours alone.

But for some reason I have a problem when I even think about writing. I get scared and anxious. I hate that feeling. I have all these triggers, but to have writing, one thing I love and one thing I am good at, be one of them is making me miserable. I loved when hundreds of people read what I wrote every day. I even admit that I loved that some people would stay up and keep checking the page to see if I had written for the day yet.

I know that part of the problem is that when I write I think of her. When Scared Bunny stopped being a nightly read it was mostly because what I wanted to do was write for her. I know it seems strange, but it still seems my writing belongs to her, and I can't use it without her blessing. I don't mean her blessing telling stories. I mean her blessing to write at all. That's why I wrote those paid posts. I felt a little guilty writing them, but not near as guilty as I felt writing anything of substance.

A big part of me is trying to keep my whole life superficial right now. If I keep it shallow and I fall, the fall won't be too far. And I can't handle another fall.

Labels: fear, life, relationships, writing