This morning I was writing a post called, "MTV True Life: I'm an Over-Thinker." And it was packed full of...thoughts. Carefully constructed, funny, witty, cohesive, professionally laid out thoughts. It was beautiful. But it was shit. So, I decided to turn my post (and my thoughts) into a writing exercise; an uncomfortable writing exercise because it's good to be uncomfortable and vulnerable and have word-vomit sometimes. There is no structure, no grammar, really. There was no plan. I just kept typing. I just kept doing the thing. And I feel SO much better!
So if you have literally 2 minutes and you're looking for a way to get some of the feels out, do this:
Set a timer for 2 minutes
Type or write out all the stuff that's been bothering you for the past 10 minutes, 17 weeks, 25 years...
BUT write it from the perspective of your "stronger" self talking to you.(see my example below...if you want.)
Make sure she tells you to lay it down, get over yourself, calm down... at least once.
SHARE it with me if you'd like!
enjoy laying it down!
Lay It Down, by, Erica Jacobs
Lay it down, girl. Put it all to bed. The I’m not good enough, all the great ideas are taken, the I lost my Dad when I was twenty and he’s forgotten me. Enough of that. You didn’t really lose him. He’s still right inside your heart. So, you stopped dieting and gained a bunch of weight. Who cares? Lay it down, girl. Let go of the I’m not worthy of being flirted with, I won’t birth healthy babies, no seriously, I’m not a credible counselor. Relax. Let’s stop here, at the first thought of I’m forgettable, I can’t make boundaries, I don’t know my limits. Lay it down, girl. Calm down. This whole I am unappreciated…nonsense. Nonsense. Nonsense. Let us stop with the shame of you being stoned during your last conversation with your Dad. You were not meant to be all there. Enough with the shame. Put it to bed. Stop it with the she’s more important because she had a baby, my friendship is worthless because now she’s getting married, I’m easily overlooked because I’m not married. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s ok that this is not a structured poem. Let this be a paragraph of free flowing bullshit. Lay it down, girl. You should be concerned about your future but stop letting it paralyze you. Enough convincing your trainers and your shrinks you’re strong, witty. No more with the I’m fat, I can’t see my triceps, I should not be a fitness instructor. Relax. Do away with the I could have loved my ex-boyfriend more, it’s my fault, he can’t wait to forget me. Enough. So your Mother didn’t enjoy motherhood when you were young. Forgive her. Let us move on today. Forgive yourself for everything you’ve ever done to every person you’ve ever met. Get another tattoo. Have some Yoga. Use your oils. Take another trip to India or something and be done with it. Lay it down, girl. Put it all to bed.