This is one of those days that I know will redefine one.
The last few days have been sorta crazy. I don’t mean crazy as in, “Oh, wow. Wild stuff going on; better get goin’ on this.” No, it’s more like, “I’m totally losing it; I should see about getting checked into the facility.” As in, I’m really on my last good thread, and if it’s cut, I’ve got serious stuff to deal with in a major way.
Last night I tried writing. My heart didn’t feel as if it were in it. I did my best, but these things that are happening, it’s eating me alive. Maybe I’ll get more done later, because even when I’m feeling as if I’m going to have a heart attack at any moment, I need to do something towards my craft.
For if I don’t have my craft, then I have nothing. There is nothing else waiting for me. Give up my writing, and I might as well start looking for a nice place to rest for the last time.
I know that sounds extreme, but there really isn’t anything else at this point. The Undisclosed Location has become less of a place to crash between trips to the job site, and more of a prison of them mind. At this moment, I’m not there, I’m at The Real Home, though a return to TUL is likely tonight. Maybe. Possibly. It all depends on what transpires during this morning.
There are things to do today. I’m dealing with things the best I can. I’ve got support on this end, and I’ve been getting support from other people as well. I’m not completely alone at this point–which is something that I do feel when I’m at The Undisclosed Location. It’s nothing but alone there. It’s the feeling of nothingness, of being isolated from everything but the local Wal Mart down the street, that’s one of the things putting a lot of strain upon me. It’s helped to be a great writing local, but it’s not helping with anything else.
So many things to deal with: the job, loneliness, isolation, fear, the feeling that I’m screwing up everything . . . oh, and one other thing. Something that’s really defining me at the moment. But nothing I’m ready to speak of yet. That time is coming, but it’s not yet. Just like all the events that are surrounding this little episode, I have to leave it for another place and time.
I have to conclude that one of the reasons this current work in progress is taking so long is because I’ve got entirely too much shit on my mind. My plate is full, and I can’t seem to clear it these days. There is more calling for my attention, and I don’t have the means to fit it in right now.
Bouncing off the walls, I am. It’s not quite gotten to where I feel like I’m about to do something totally stupid, but it’s feeling very close. Objects in the rear view mirror are always closer than they appear, and this one has been tailgating me for a few weeks.
Okay, I’m off. Even with everything swirling about my head like mad, I can still write. At least I write here.
See? Everything’s okay. Really. It is.