Where’s My Funny Bone?

When I first started this blog I was a fucking mess.  I would cry for no reason, I became agoraphobic and could not leave the apartment.  I became unable to answer the phone, and I would confuse easily and even get lost if I was able to force myself out the door.    I had such a love for my blog, for my readers and for other bloggers out there.  I would write each word meticulously.  And there was one aspect that I made sure of…that I provided humor in my blog.  It was important for me to know that people had a chuckle or maybe even a laugh when they read my writing.

I had no problem writing in those days.  I couldn’t wait to get on the computer each day and start typing away at a post.  For long periods of time, this blog was my only way to contact the outside world.  I don’t know how I would have lasted without it.

As some of you may know I took a break for awhile.  I posted that I was going to take a “short” vacation, but would be back soon.  Several years later I finally came back and I’m glad I did.  But, sadly, I find it very hard to be humorous anymore.  I can still write humorously.  I can write humor in my speech class. I have a touch of humor in my upcoming sermon.  But, here on this blog I find it extremely difficult.  Is there some truth that people with mental illness are most creative when in the lowest depths of their disease?  People who know my passion for Van Gogh have asked me if I thought he would have been such a great artist if he wasn’t suffering from mental illness.  My answer to that question is “No.”  It is my belief that he would have most likely been an art dealer like his brother and other family members.  It was his pain that made him most human and therefore most creative.

But, come on, I’m no Van Gogh.  I was never that funny.  But, I’m beginning to think that’s still true for me.  Though I am far from being cured of bipolar disorder I am not in the midst of despair that I once was.  I no longer toy with the idea of killing myself on a daily basis.  I’m still a mess, I’m just not a fucking mess.

I want that back.  I want to bring back my humorous side.  I want to be able to express myself, make a connection with my readers and still be funny.  I’m glad I began writing this blog again.  I love it actually.  I just want to make it as fun for my readers as it is for me.  Maybe that’s going to take a little more effort than it use to.  I know, if I go off my meds I’ll probably be hilarious for a week or two before I end up back in lock down.  I don’t really think that’s a good option, though.  It’s hard to write a blog with crayons.

10 comments on Where’s My Funny Bone?

    1. Don’t worry, shoe, I plan to keep writing. Things have changed, but I still love being a part of the blogosphere.

  1. “I’m still a mess, I’m just not a fucking mess.” Love that…gave me a little laugh, although you may not have intended. I think I do my best writing when I am really symptomatic, and I miss the way I used to be able to write; however, I wouldn’t trade that ability for the “betterness” I feel now. I went through a period where I totally abandoned my blog, only to find it helpful and enjoyable again. Sometimes I struggle to come up with something to say, but I always figure out something and I always always always feel the better for it. Keep on blogging, Bradley…you’re doing great! Best! Rose

    1. I did throw that in for a chuckle or two. I’m sure I’ll get my old skills back. It’s just going to take time and practice. I love it too much to abandon it again.

  2. I enjoy your blog and look forward to every post. I love your humour…it’s all a part of what makes you who you are…but it’s only a part. Be yourself. I too try to add humour to my blog but if that’s not where I am at the moment, trying to force it just stresses me out. Never underestimate the power of insight, emotion and honesty. They too are what what great writers are all about.

  3. Black humor, humor about and amidst pain and anguish, has a zing unlike any other. Think Richard Prior. But there’s other humor, that about the obsurdity of life for example, that can make us laugh so hard we pee our pants. (or is that just a girl thing?). Think George Carlin on the nature of having stuff. And then there is satire which is wickedly delicious when done well. You’ll find your humor voice. It’s still inside you.

    1. I agree, Lora. It’s still there. I was just thinking that a large part of it is likely because my world is bigger now. I don’t have the time to spend writing a post as I use to. I need to slow down and take it easy when I write. It can only help make me enjoy it more

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