I don't want to write

I don't want to write today.

All I want to do is sit on my couch and cry.

I'm tired of feeling like a failure. I'm tired of caring what other people think. I'm tired of being ashamed of wanting things, of being ashamed of trying. I'm tired of trying to look cool, trying to look like I don't really care all that much.

I'm tired of talking in circles around what I really want to say.

I'm tired of being sad when I rally want to be angry.

I'm tired of being tired.

I'm tired of shrinking.

I'm tired of hiding my light, of hiding under the table, of being afraid to admit that I think I'm good.

I am sad. I am hurt. I am angry. I want to be a real writer. I want to write things that people connect to. I want my words to matter to people. I want to have a bigger platform, a taller pedestal because I think what I am saying matters.

I want to help people because that's what I'm good at. Because I'm damn good at it.

My daughter has her nose on my nose right now and I am typing without looking at the screen as she asks me for the fiftieth time if she can use my computer to play a game.

I'm sorry, baby, I'm writing.

I write.

I'm a writer.

fdegetvrtybfyfgfyhhh

(That was the part of the post where she said she really wanted to help.)

The baby is on the floor of the kitchen, probably eating crayons.

This is who I am. This is what I do. I press my nose on my daughter's nose, I stop the baby from eating crayons, I write.

I don't want to be ashamed of that anymore.