I’ve been thinking a lot about how stuck I still feel in the writing process despite the fact that I started consistently blogging in 2013. I don’t know if shame is necessarily the right word but I feel frustrated that I’m not further along.

Writing has always been there for me to process difficult emotions or make sense of difficult situations. So not having that outlet consistently feels wrong. Why is this still so hard to do? I took the time to invest in rebranding, coming up with new methods to create, I made a podcast so if it was easier to speak instead of write I could. I have an Instagram page where I can write small things in case I don’t have enough to say – and yet there are many times where I create nothing at all.

If you haven’t been with me that long, I took a three year break from writing to heal from PTSD. I didn’t feel like I had anything to give anyone during the peak of my journey. I struggled to shower, to complete day to day tasks at work, to basically keep living honestly. But part of what kept me going was the belief that there would be comeback where things would return to normal. I’d be able to unbraid the complicated things I was facing like I always used to because both time and the act of writing always helped me do that.

But it hasn’t been like that.

Remember that scene in Mockingjay Pt One where Katniss loses her voice?

Trigger Warning: She goes through a traumatic experience by having to participate in the Hunger Games again and when she is rescued – she realizes her partner wasn’t. When she is finally reunited with him, it’s not what she has expected – he has been programmed to believe she is the enemy and tries to choke her which damages her vocal chords and she is unable to speak for some time.

Perhaps I have a certain flair for the dramatic as a writer but I think of this scene a lot. If you’ve been through something unspeakable or you have been through a dark season of mental illness even – you can probably relate. There’s nothing worse than feeling that your mind, your body, your — core being is screaming out but you simultaneously can’t utter anything of substance. You want to process things in a way that’s familiar to you, articulate things so people understand, to even help yourself understand adequately but you can’t. It’s learning how to speak all over again like a child.

I don’t know how long this healing journey will be for me – I wish I had continuous pieces of wisdom to share with you because I know I sought voices to relate to when I was at my worst. I want so badly to be that for other people. But I also want more than anything to be able to be that for myself. To keep seeking my own voice because I could always trust her to be honest with her advice and difficult to argue with.

For now, I want to encourage us both that “you can do it again”. Whatever that might look like this year – or even this very minute. The journey is harder than I anticipated but I am re-learning how to speak.