why I write

A few months after I was diagnosed with IPAH, I started a journal. That's its cover, by the way,  worked in watercolour. Sunflowers dancing in the sun.

It was my daughter who suggested I write, and I remember thinking it was a good idea. To quell the demons that ride the carousels in my mind.

And it worked, as I knew it would. I have always found catharsis with writing.

What I disliked about it, though, was the actual act of writing: The picking up of pen, to put to paper, and the forming of word after word after word. Tedium ad infinitum.

But, I am also trying to teach myself calligraphy. Isn't that writing?

Well, yes and no. Yes, it is writing. But no, it is more than that: It is an art. A dance of nib on paper. And oh, the joy of listening to the music I make while writing, then!

When I wrote in my journal, I found that my words on the line couldn't keep up with the ones in my brain.  And, as I tried to keep pace, my already-bad writing got even worse. Add to that the wrongly-spelt words, and the rubbish sentences that needed re-working . . .  returning to a blog was a no-brainer.

For me, thinking on the screen has been how I write, for years. My fingers oblige with the words, rattling over the keys, keeping pace with my thoughts. Happiness 😊 Thank you, mum, for insisting that I learn to touch-type when I was 17!

And, labels 💙

They're the other reason I love this medium. I can tag something, and know that I will be able to find it again easily, should I need it. I'd tried hi-lighting bits and pieces in my journal, and that worked. Sorta. But looking for something involved flip-flip-flipping through pages to find it. And, then, there's my writing to contend with: What exactly is that word . . . ?

So yup, a blog is a good idea.

For now, my blog is private. I share with just a few of you who already know about my diagnosis. The thought of everyone reading what I write, and feeling sorry for me . . . well, that brings me close to tears.

Actually, the thought of total strangers reading this blog sits easier with me than the thought of people I know, but dislike, reading it. I do realise that it is a tad vain to imagine thousands flocking to this page, and poring over my words! Hahahah. But one day, this may be open, and it may be true 😏

And one day, I will open this to the public. But not just yet. This is all still so new, and all still quite raw. There is so much I don't know, and even more that I am sure I do not want to know. I don't know if I will ever be ready for all that there is in store, for me.

Until I have come to terms with this, and all it means, this will be a blog for me and those I trust.

Eventually, I hope that I will be able to share my thoughts with others who are also living with PH. IPAH is very rare, and maybe someone will find some of this useful, or comforting. I don't know.

But, I myself keep away from blogs about PH. I am blind to the positive in what they write. I only see my future, and it scares me. So, I've decided that I'd rather not learn from them, and simply learn as I go along. From me. If that makes any sense!

My amorPHous journey is me, writing my own story, and taking each day as it comes.