one hundred

Hi there, and welcome to my 100th post! I feel like I should have prepared something, possibly the blog equivalent of slightly burned cake with sprinkles on it.

I'm not even sure how to start writing again. Over the last few months I've written and deleted the beginnings of about a dozen draft posts that I got a few sentences into and gave up on. As soon as I got to a point where I wasn't a hundred per cent sure what word would come next and I'd have to stop and make a choice, it was like someone chucked a black cloth over the birdcage of my brain (yeah, you hear that? You're a BIRDCAGE) and everything would just... stop working.

ME: It's OK, we can skip over that word and come back to it later.
BRAIN: No. Done now.
ME: But I want to write.
BRAIN: WE ARE DONE. Now are you going to back away from the blog or do I have to send in the Wave of Inexplicable Hopelessness?
ME: But...
BRAIN: UNLEASHING THE WAVE
ME: Everything is useless.
BRAIN: That's better.

I will get over this. But not the way my brain is telling I will; i.e. by staying completely silent until PERFECTION happens. It will happen by posting things like this, because I promised myself I would write and I have. It will happen by showing myself every day that, yes, I can write, and yes, I can share it. It will happen by looking back over several dozen entries and seeing my voice getting stronger, watching my writing come back to life. And where my writing goes, the rest of me will follow.