Nothing There

I think that I have writer’s block.

I can not order my thoughts, nor find the words to express them. Sentences come – and then go – before I’ve time to pen them down; and the conclusion of any chain of thought is always a few phrases out of reach.

The panic is bubbling now, like acid.

It is making it harder to breathe, and has created a terror that permeates my sleep and drowns out the day: what to write what to think what to do what to say what to write what to do what to do –


In a rare moment of silence; I realise that I might just be repeating the same mistake. That all these years in, I am still looking for something to hold onto. A little validation that provides a temporary respite until the next time I am revealed –

Nothing and nobody.

Pull back the cloak and there’s only thin air –

This is the root of the problem. This is where it’s red raw and screams; where the urgency – and desperation – and scrabbling around for connections and meaning and words comes from –

Because without something, there’s nothing there.

Or so I have become accustomed to believing.

And so, I have been hooking my identity and any self worth on to things that are outside of me, and can be named, and acknowledged, and touched. Clutching onto descriptors that are tangible (the violinist) – and acceptable (the grade A student) – or ill (and so excused, for a little while); knowing, all the time, that these are temporary guises, assumed, but not intrinsic; and subject, at any moment, to exposure – or removal – or, in the current case, writer’s block –

And I am left with nothing.

Pull back the cloak and there’s only thin air –

I think that this will keep happening unless I am careful. That I will move from one validation to the next, writer – employee – speaker, always aware of the fragility of this foundation and in anticipation of the next tremor. Always waiting to be found out, or exposed, or to lose the thing that I have been desperately clinging to.

And, I wonder whether it’s correct, this dislocation of my assets from my self. Whether believing that these qualities are outside of me, rather than a part of me, is a true representation; or just a reflection of how little I really think of myself, and how scared I am that, should the cloak be yanked, cruelly, from behind me, then people might think that really

there’s nothing there –

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4 Responses to “Nothing There”

  1. There’s just a ton there. Get that you can’t see it, but others certainly do. Trust me on this one.

  2. The_Timekeeper says:

    I think we all move from one validation to the next … some of us just depend on it more for identity, centering, confidence, coping. Coping most of all … with whatever the holes that make the little gaps feel like gasps. In the end, perhaps your final validation will be as one who has found peace, balance and no longer needs external, superficial validation because she will have walked the journey to personal knowing herself.

  3. melissa says:

    I really hope so. External validation always seems elusive and quite often makes me feel like I’m sucking energy out of other people or something. It’s funny how I can consider the negative qualities part of my nature, and the positive ones a temporary gift. Maybe there’s something about trust in there too?

  4. melissa says:

    TY Splinteredones ;)