Do you ever have those days where you just feel a little off and the only thing that can fix the situation is going to sleep and waking up tomorrow? Today I had my second writing workshop. It didn’t go exactly as planned. If anyone knows me, they know that I am not great at speaking on demand. If I have time to rehearse a speech or whatnot, I will do fine because I am prepared. But when I am speaking to a friend or a group of people, sometimes I will stutter, or mix up my words, or even just cut entire stories short, abruptly so, because I feel like what I am saying is just confusing. Recently, my word mix-ups and such have gotten worse (this doesn’t ease my thoughts of brain cancer). Today, I knew I would have to read some of my writing to my workshop class, but I didn’t think it would go as terrible as it did.
First of all, I never read my writing to anyone. I’ve only ever performed my personal writing once. Second, I hate speaking (see above). Half of the time I find small talk and pointless chit chat a waste of time, and the other half of the time I just can’t verbalize my thoughts and emotions quite right. So obviously, the reason why I like to write is because writing is my voice. When I speak, my voice is hindered by anxiety, and brain casualties, so when I write, I get a chance to let my true thoughts really get “spoken”. I’m frustrated by the fact that my writing professor wants us to develop our reading voice, as the only voice I really care about at this point is my writing voice. I seemed to be the only person in the entire class who didn’t read their writing as if they were an apprentice to shakespeare or a movie character. Blah. I realize I am just going to have to ignore my predispositions and last the rest of the year.