It's very difficult for me to let go, on such an open blog. I kept an anonymous blog because I wanted an outlet, but then I realised I disliked the very reason I began it - the anonymity, the feeling that I was being somehow untruthful. One of my little quirks; starting a blog where I could lie and feeling in some way too guilty to fully utilise that one little comfort. It didn't help that I gave out the address and allowed people in, it tainted the purpose somehow, and meant I stopped the posts as I couldn't relax. It's not that I distrust those who I offered it to, it's just that to let them in instantly put me on my guard, and I realised that these people had access to intimate details about my life, and if I continued to use the blog they would indubitably learn details that I would rather keep very much locked away. The skeletons in my closet have plenty of room to dance around privately, without giving them public licence to embarrass me too.
It brings me to wonder whether I can ever truly open up like I'd love to be able to. Annoyingly, I know it would make me a far better writer, if I could attain a certain candor that as of yet I haven't been able to bring to my words. Connection is the key, and so far it has totally eluded me.
It's another reason I'd like to introduce more of my fictional writings to this blog; the falsity a writer like myself loves because it deflects attention from their own weaknesses, both literary and personal. This blog becomes a daunting challenge when it's centred upon 'reality', as it means I have to focus on myself - and if I don't like writing about my deeply personal thoughts and feelings, what else is left to say? It becomes hollow, stodgy and stale, missing the passion that a blog (essentially an internet diary) deserves.
So how do I change this? Do I even want to change this? Is it possible? I really don't know.
Initially this blog post had been entitled 'The Patriot', in relation to my recent trip to the Isle of Skye, which was both breathtaking and inspiring. And it was then that I realised, that to fully explain all of the emotions that the island had awoken in me, I had to understand and relate to the reasons I had connected to the place so entirely. The idea of the Skeleton Club came naturally, it seemed to fit perfectly with what I began writing about... The troubles and issues that have thus far prevented me from writing as well, as emotively and as eloquently as I want to. Skye, my writing, the skeletons - everything so intricately interconnected.
Opening up will take time, and I don't think I'm over-dramatising when I say that. My family know about this blog, they can see it, and if I'm entirely honest they know very little about who I really am and what I have endured as a person, and that really does restrict me, in bonds that I don't know if I'll be able to shake. My problem is that I offer excessive and unnecessary care to the thoughts of others, but hopefully time will erode the self-consciousness and the insecurity that have so far hampered my passion.
Wish me luck.
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