The Weight of My Opinion

My own opinion on basically anything, is a source of stress to me. I am indecisive in the extreme and explore all options before coming to such a fragile conclusion that another opinion voiced would shatter my confidence in it. It is quite crippling. You won’t see me tweet or Facebook anything political really – mainly because of all the soul searching means that I explore every side and point of view so I don’t want to have to go through that all over again by inviting debate by publically announcing it. Though I’m probably missing out on the support side.

I feel this makes me quite a feeble actual person but I’m hoping it makes me a more weighty writer. I hope it means that I write all aspects of character with compassion – even when I’m horrified by their actions. I hope it means that I care deeply for the human condition, because I do. I’m grateful to this week’s Wicked Wednesday, because I always thought of this as a weakness. Through ruminating on this every day since I saw the prompt, I believe that my indecision and inability to form a solid unmoveable opinion makes me more able see inside the reasons for other people’s.

When and if I do come to a conclusion that I feel certain is true to me, I know that in the end, it is based on instinct. Instinct and what I believe is right and wrong. More and more these days I realise that perhaps I am right to use instinct as my primary decision making – as we seem to be lied to over and over and over again people in power.

I do stand up for the big things I think are wrong, I go on marches and demonstrations and support movements that highlight unfair treatment of people here and around the world. I’ve marched against most of the big decisions our government has taken on our behalf throughout the years. It’s not easy but I force myself when my instinct is telling me something is wrong, even when experts say it is right. But those are the big things that once you’ve made your mind up it’s easier to be strong. My little every day battles with indecision really are quite terrifying to me at times. Sometimes it really is all too much and to even choose cornflakes or bananas has me quaking. Choosing ice cream on Monday, I was practically crying because I couldn’t decide whether to have chocolate or raspberry sorbet. Perhaps, when my times of indecision are at their worst, perhaps my brain is working on a new story. Perhaps it is birthing a new character’s mind. I hate my indecisions but now I’m glad I have a use to put them to.

My own opinion really does weigh me down at times.

Sorry this wasn’t sexy… it was a struggle to write.