If it hasn’t been blatantly apparent, Life As We Know It has been consuming me in ways I am struggling to cope with.
This morning started just like any other. I woke up at the relatively late time of quarter to 10, stumbled with my half vision into the bathroom, then trudged down the stairs to get my son his breakfast- Lucky Charms of course, due to his obsessive cereal phase and crippling fear of trying anything new. All the while feeling miserable due to having lost my most productive morning hours to the waste that is sleep and thinking about how much I didn’t want to go to work in 4 hours. It then struck me, “Oh yeah, I have the day off today!” Let the games begin.
I sat down at this glorified heap of excrement cleverly disguised as “technology” and proceeded to work feverishly on my newest piece. I had to abandon working further on it last night due to that “something is missing” feeling that creates quite a frustrating block. As I worked, I felt the familiar squirming of repressed words deep in my belly. See, I can’t even take a hiatus without failing.
Being a writer is a lot like being pregnant. The incubation time of a worthwhile body of writing can often be even longer than the seeming eternity of 40 weeks that it takes to develop a new human being in the womb. In my experience, a good piece of written work is more useful than most children anyhow and much more worthy of the painful duration of gestation. Don’t get me wrong, I am a parent and love my kids but children are parasites until they can fend for themselves. Like it or not. Sure they come with many joys… but let’s be real here. I’m not going to recant my statement for the fragile-minded who now see me as a heartless woman who should never have been given the privilege of bearing children since I didn’t start this paragraph with the intention of disparaging the importance, worth, and satisfaction behind rearing children.
The truth of it is being that I have the experience of pregnancy, I can create an educated comparison to writing. It’s no mystery to those who know me (and even those who don’t) that I can be exceptionally moody. It seems to be at it’s worst during long gaps between fervent writing. When I can’t seem to find that enthusiasm to release the rampant thoughts circling in my head, they seem to fall into a black hole… a void of darkness… and they take my mood down with them. It’s just one more of the many vicious cycles I find myself in. Without the release, there is no hope for my mood… but with the negativity comes the lack of desire to exonerate the verbal effluence.
Then I get to this point where eloquence turns to nothing short of logorrhea. The conscious effort has to be put forth to not sound like I’ve never had a solid day of education in my life. Though, I suppose if it were effortless, I would be a prodigy of sorts.
In these recent months, I have been becoming an increasingly feeling-centered personality. My block prior to the creation of this little blog was the product of laying emotionally dormant for the better part of 3 years. Even before the mass levels of coldness set in, I was still lacking in many of the sensitivities that had long ago been a part of my natural makeup. I believe I’ve pondered that subject before, so I’ll avoid redundancy there. The point of mentioning it comes in the fact that my moodiness is creating hundreds of mini blocks a day. I’ve paused and resumed this one entry a half dozen times and turned what should have been 15 minutes worth of writing into 3 hours. It’s almost as if Life as I Know It changes drastically in short increments of time. Most likely due to the way moods alter perspective and our vision of life is all we really have to base our existence on.
I suppose I may still be on hiatus from exposing many of my personal thoughts and feelings to a world that really only absorbs one or two sentences anyway. The fact is though, I do it for me… maybe even to be reassured that my vision of worldly ignorance remains unchanged and will be validated by your multitudinous misconceptions and skewed analysis of who I am and where I stand. We all need validation in some area of our lives, no matter how insignificant.