I’m a little fired up tonight and I’m not completely sure why, but something about feeling that burn makes me need to write. I took a break from writing because I’m so sick and tired of juggling my time between it and them. When I use the term “them” I mean everything and everyone in my life that needs just as much or more attention than myself.
Have an ant problem, stop writing.
Kids are hungry, stop writing.
Someone smashed out your front window, stop writing.
Your sister has a crisis, stop writing.
Have a fight with your partner, stop writing.
Laundry, yard work, dishes, bathing, vacation, birthdays, holidays, exhaustion, eating boxes of chocolate cherries, Rizzoli & Isles, depression, —STOP WRITING!
Seriously, the list is never-ending, so how do people succeed at writing?
Well after taking my break to see what would happen, to see if I could live a simple “them” type of life, I failed. Sure, I’m not as moody and I’m getting a ton of other things done, but I’m not fulfilled or completely happy. Everyone else seems happier around me, but I feel divided, torn, chopped in half and dramatic.
I’m not good at being content and in the now of scrubbing Crayola drawings off the wall. I like to stare out the window and think, go for walks and take pictures of condoms, day dream, feel restless at night, and figure out how I can get more people to read about my bullshit life.
Sure I’m not the best writer, but I’m not the best at anything else either. My life feels like it’s in shambles and I’m trying to swim under a pool of fire.
Unfortunately, I’m that writer who gets moody when I can’t get my words onto a page or chunk of skin. I try hard not to sacrifice my time with loved ones because I don’t want to miss out on moments I can never get back, but when I am away from my words for too long, no one wants me around anyway.
I need “it” and “them” and if I need to learn to breathe fire so I won’t drown then I guess I better get used to the heat.