You know how the common advice is to “cheer up” when somebody sees somebody in a rather sad/foul/depressed disposition? I digress. To cheer up can only happen when any reason causing the unhappiness to the affected is overcome, otherwise you’re practicing ignorance. Ignorance is bliss, but to ignore a brewing problem is going to walk you into a dung pit.
I wrote so frequently in my first year, writing about almost anything from the routine of missing buses/trains to the icky job of cleaning the bathroom. Second year was so much more exciting but I found I couldn’t write or hesitant to write about my undertakings and the 92843753675923546 problems I was facing for the fear of hurting the people around me.
“Remember I’m a poet too Evie, I understand the power of words,” Ben to Evie in Driving Lessons (2006).
Similarly, I’m a writer. I understand the power of words.
My anonymity on this blog is somewhat compromised so even if I wrote about someone or something without referring to its name, who is part cause of my entire stress and frustration, given my apt descriptive writing readers who are in my immediate environment may make the connection almost instantly.
My current housemates and the ones in first year are not on my Facebook friends’ list and I told them nothing about my blog. I doubt knowing any bus drivers working in Bath.
I had in mind to create separate accounts for my social networking profiles and the blog but thought it would be a hassle. I could barely remember all my username and passwords for different dozens of accounts and I’m reluctant to have them down in writing.
Writing has always been an exercise for me to relieve stress, so when I suppressed the urge to write a lot of the stress had nowhere to go – the hectic schedule gave less time to bake or visit the few people whom I put confidence in to tell about the situation I was in.
Mid-way of my second year I was pretty much mentally and emotionally drained. I practically lost the motivation to study the couple of weeks before exams began. People would have had the impression I was okay as I appear pretty relaxed most of the time and not very agitated, until I open my mouth and pour out my crisis.
The combination of stress, lack of practice, and not reading enough literature (engineering course material does not count) initiated the writer’s block. I took for granted that I was able to write almost anything and almost any given time, when my words wouldn’t flow I probably felt like a bird unable to fly. Or perhaps like an aeroplane grounded due to technical glitches.