Here I am... sitting at home... at my desk... thinking about what to write.
I've been wanting to write for a while now, but due to low energy levels - thank you life stresses, self-diagnosed insomnia, and powerloss for that - I haven't had the energy and/or focus to do... well, anything.
I'm getting better though.
I remember after my most recent car accident, I fell into a depression of sorts and didn't want to write or do anything creative. I usually always want to write. I always have a barrage of creativity floating around in my noggin rather it be a story idea or a scene or some dialogue. But the car accident seemed to just knock not only that but the desire to write at all.
Now the issue is back to having the desire to write but not having any time... or energy.
[refer to earlier for who to blame for that]
I've been sort of like Carly from Days of Our Lives during the storyline where she'd been drugged by Vivian and then buried alive. All the scenes while she was "unconscious" and people were around her, you'd hear her internally screaming "I'm alive!" but no one could hear her... due to being drugged by Vivian and all that.
[How's THAT for a random reference? You're welcome.]
So here I have been lately - wanting to write, and even carving out time for myself to just be at home and write - but most of the time when I get home, the moment I stop moving, I'm out like a light. There are times I'm SO exhausted, I wake up later that night, and I'm not only still wearing the clothes I wore to work, but I'm still wearing my bra and shoes.
Who the fuck does that? I mean, willingly sleeping in their bra? Fuck that noise.
As I write this, powerloss has started (aka my period). Why women have to go through this, I'll never understand. And also the judgement from others (men... and strangely other women sometimes) like your discomfort isn't real.
[Pushing that soapbox away for now.]
In my later years, powerloss has changed a bit by adding a few new tricks such as more aches and pains, some nausea, and some serious fatigue. Before? I just felt like shit and didn't want to move as I hugged a heating pad to me like a teddy bear praying the demon that possessed my nethers would exorcise itself from my body and never return. On the inside, I wanted to go out and do stuff - see a movie, hang with friends, go for a hike - to do all sorts of things. But alas the struggle is real y'all. And Mother Nature super-sized my powerloss when all I wanted was maybe the Happy Meal.
What is up with that?
The original writing plan was to post something on Monday - the beginning of the month. Clean slate, fresh start - kind of thing. Set a goal, achieve it, and move on from there - maybe even start a blog schedule, but the fatigue is hitting me hard. (Prior to starting this post, I was adulting - cleaning my apartment, paying bills, making my self dinner... I even knocked out for a short napcident.) But here I am, pushing through to get something out on this damn bloggity-blog-blog... even though it's most likely rubbish, but I'll get better.
At least I'll try to.
I suppose this is a prime example of a struggling writer... though it's really just a struggle to write.
Help?
I also had to fix the layout. It got a little frakked along the way, and I was trying to figure out how to fix it. (I had wanted a change and thought I'd written down all my preferences/settings/etc, but then stuff didn't save properly so I was frakked up the booty. In trying to write, my [self-diagnosed] OCD-lite said "Oh no! We can't write with this looking the way it does. We need to fix this first. THEN we can write.
But here we are at the end of the post, and I think it makes sense. It's more of an "I'm back... again" kind of moment so I suppose it doesn't really need to make sense. Also, it's a real representation of myself since I am a little all over the place.
But I digress.
And now? Time for bed. I'm going to aim to post again this Wednesday. Let's see how that goes. Wish me luck.
Later my lovelies.
Have Goodness!
Rae
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