Writing Exposes Weird Quirks and Flaws in Your Internal Voice

I doubt my own talents and abilities.

I’d be pressed if I had to tell you what they are. I think part of that’s humility, but there’s also probably some spinelessness sprinkled in with that, too.

“Love the challenge of the unknown.”

I used to pride myself of this quote.

Now, the unknown terrifies me. I’m mature enough to understand there’s darkness and fear and suffering within walking distance. I’ve been weak, so weak I had no words in the face of my own inadequacies.

That’s the thing that gets me today: not knowing.

As individuals, we really don’t know who we are, what we look, what we sound like to the rest of the world. Because we’re not the rest of the world.

We get a single lens. Our whole life. One vantage point.

I mean, even as I write this, I question the validity of what I’m trying to say. Who am I even talking to? What can I even say?

I guess I get caught up in perceptions. That’s the problem with caring about the world too much. God created us to be beyond that. I don’t know why, but I shackle myself sometimes, chuck the key, then wonder why I can’t escape.

Almost all fear stems from the mind, too, which is crazy.

I used to underestimate the power of the mind... as if it doesn’t create the reality I live in.

HA.

I hate cringing at younger versions of me.

Maybe I’m not alone here? I’m sure this is a thing.

I feel like it’s perfectly normal to think to your past and question why you used to be who you were.

There’s progress in that.

Whenever I look back on old pictures, videos, and memories— even writing — I feel like I’m remembering someone else.

It’s a younger, stupider, less experienced version of Alec.

Yeah.

By that I mean I grew and learned and made a lot of mistakes since then. Of course the current version of me scoffs and thinks “Yeah, if only you knew!”

Being dumb isn’t always your fault.

If I encounter a really stupid person, like really stupid, I usually feel sorry.

I don’t get angry. I don’t chant “You should know better!” I don’t even really criticize them (although I know I have before).

I kind of look at it like they’re doing the best they can manage with the knowledge, resources, and motivations they presently have.

That’s how I feel when I reflect on myself. I do this all the time. Like I question what I did yesterday. Still, this current version of me thinks “Now we know.”

“There, there” I mumble as I pat myself on the back.

I’ve been documenting my life and how I think for the past 6 years.

What’s wrong with me? Like who do I think I am?

I’ve thought a lot about writing and the point of it — there is a point. And I think the benefits are self-evident.

Writing reveals what you say to yourself.

That’s actually kind of spooky, huh?

Maybe that’s why most people don’t write.