Saturday, June 28, 2014

Finding My Way Back

It’s been a while. A somewhat difficult while. I can't call it depression – I’ve heard and read enough from those who do have depression (Allie Brosh, Libba Bray, Myra McEntire are incredible and everyone should read them) to know that they are battling a different, far more insidious beast. I can’t even say that 2014 has been a bad year so far, on the whole.  

But if I haven’t exactly been plagued by hopelessness and listlessness or plunged into psychological darkness, I’ve certainly found life rather overcast. Defining aspects of my life started to shift or slip back at the beginning of winter. Close friends were planning to move away, work wasn’t going as I’d hoped, my schedule stretched so that I hardly saw my husband, and my motivation to write faded away as I got more tired and the novel still refused to come together. Worst of all for me, several injuries cropped up (which a long string of medical professionals couldn’t seem to fix) and kept me from doing the athletic pursuits that usually make me feel accomplished and keep me sane when everything else is failing. I desperately needed to be part of a team, feel the rush of playing well and winning a game, or at least get outside and run out my frustrations, but instead I filled my calendar with appointments and limped around my house, grumbling. It was also literally overcast until a month or so ago – this is Oregon, after all, land of the clouds, where everyone gets at least a touch of S.A.D. sometimes. I felt myself slipping, fading. I had to conserve my dwindling energy and enthusiasm. So one of several consequences was that I drifted off the blogging/tweeting/online writing community grid. It’s not like I was doing much to move myself closer to the published part of that world, anyway. (See – all gray and grumpy and grumbly.)

The sun has returned and my schedule has improved somewhat, but the rest of those problems still stand. In fact, I started this post a few days ago but had to stop writing it because I started feeling too sorry for myself all over again. I am immensely lucky in most aspects of my life, I know this, it’s just sometimes hard in the face of minor but mounting difficulties to convince myself to be grateful  and flexible and resilient and to seize the freaking day already. I can feel the balance shifting though, and a touch more energy returning, so I’m deciding to be optimistic and ease myself back into writing the novel and resurrecting this abandoned blog. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be consistently inspired on either project, of course, but I’m not going to avoid them anymore. 

It’s time to find my way back.