This year, I’m going to say a lot more about what’s happening in my brain. I think I have to.
The internet collectively shrugs: “Okay, Grady.”
I’m a writer who feels this deep, deep need to express myself, but I usually stay quiet because I think I’m vain and needy for attention, and I don’t want to indulge my urge to get some.
Despite my expressiveness, I’ve become much more timid about articulating my convictions ever since 2014, when, on this very blog, I ended up destroying my entire world and pissing off a few people. (I’m being cryptic on purpose here.) I’d never really been reviled before, and, suddenly, I was. Here’s a melodramatic painting I made once to express how I was feeling:
Well, I’ve spent almost four years figuring out what the hell happened and why it hurt me so much, and whether I’m just a misguided loon of a man, and I think I’m finally getting over my own bullshit.
I’m learning how to be honest. I’m realizing that getting hurt was a blessing. I’m accepting that people aren’t sitting on the edge of their seats to know what I think. I’m embracing the fact that this world is not a tawdry little theatre in which I’m the star. I can do what I want and say what I want. At the very least, I can think what I want. And the world will keep spinning.
I used to be insecure and couldn’t handle being disliked by a few people on the internet, and, honestly, that neuroticism will probably always be a part of me. But, when I’m feeling sane, I remember that nobody is thinking about me right now, and I let out a big sigh of relief.
So, here’s to a new year filled with new words and less overthinking.