What should I write about?

What should I write about? What should I write about?  What should I write about?

This statement has been rolling through my head over and over the last couple of years.  If I had a typewriter instead of a laptop, I think it might even be therapeutic to pull a Jack Nicholson and type it out, page after page, hoping to glom onto something.  Instead, I would inevitably copy & paste it inside Word and that would seem a bit more psychotic, I’m afraid.

A year ago, I made a real point to begin setting aside time to write and at the very least, have a notebook with me at all times, so that if an idea comes to me, I’ll jot it down or just let it all free flow out if possible.  I’m still doing that and I’m beginning to wonder when the exercise will all be over.  When am I going to stop planning to write and just do it?  

I’ve had so much happen to me in the last 10 years.  I have plenty of material.  Marriage, children, downsizing, the mortgage crisis, co-dependency, mental health, weight gain & loss - to name just a piddly few topics that I can think of right now.  I could write pages and pages about these and how it all affected me, my life and my family.  But, each time I set my mind on it, I wonder who will want to read about it from my point of view?  Is what I have to say really all that interesting?  I guess I wanted to write about my other interests to take my mind off reality, but the two, unfortunately, are very entangled.

My mother once told me that it’s good to share with others when the occasion arises.  “You just never know if they might have experienced the same as you.”  Well, so then what?  I always thought.   I hate to be the “downer.”  You know every group of friends has one who’s always got a problem, or fighting with someone or who’s been “totally wronged.”  You can almost hear the trombones playing “Wah, wah, wahhhh” bringing down the mood after everything they say.    For once, I’d like to be the person with a “normal” problem.  The dog groomers royally messed up my pooch’s trim job or my favorite brand of nail polish was discontinued.  It would, of course, help if I had a dog or painted my fingernails, but that is truly beside the point.  My byline on my Facebook profile is even:  “My existential crisis is actually just my personality.”  Almost as if to serve as a warning to people upfront so they know who they are dealing with.

But, I have learned that perhaps by sharing your adventure, you could reach someone at a point when they really needed to be understood.   Their situation and emotions, and especially the ones that can make you feel so alienated at times that you could shatter to pieces.  It helps to know that you are not alone in the world.  There really are other imperfect beings out there trudging through the life journey the same as you and they don’t really have it anymore together than you.  It’s nice to know you’re not crazy or even if you are, that there are other crazies out there just like you.  

And since writing this piece, I’ve discovered another amazing thing.  When you share your life with others (vs. keeping it all bottled up inside) who don’t ultimately identify with your situation, people are, overall, compassionate.  Just when I think I am disillusioned by humanity, I receive a warm hug, encouraging words and offers to just be there to listen or help out.