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Sunday, June 30, 2013

I want to write, I think

I have been thinking heavily lately about what I want to do for the rest of my life.  I'm 42 years old, I still have many years ahead of me to do something fabulous, problem is I just don't know what to do.  I know that although I wasn't prepared to quit working the way I did, it could actually be viewed as a gift. When I don't focus on the sucktastic reason I'm unemployed, I can actually feel a little thrill of hope that I do anything I want like when I was young and idealistic.  Then the jaded and cynical part of me the responsible part-I really hate that part-reminds me I have to be careful, not get too stressed, don't tax my body too much, remember you're a Mom and have to have dinner ready for the family, Lil Mamie has dance class at 5:30, Ab's swim meet is at 2:00, yada, yada, freakin' yada.

How do I turn that off? I remind myself that I am allowed to be interested in things outside my kids.  I have to remind myself that over and over, but It's starting to stick a little I think.  My dream ever since I was a kid was to write.  Sure I had other so-called dreams, I was going to be a psychiatrist.  I even ran a group counseling session in sixth grade with a group of  kids who walked home from school with me.  That experience was really interesting and I know my friends liked it until one of the girls told me how abusive her mom was and I convinced her to go our teacher and tell her.  Well she did, and I ended up not being allowed to talk to her anymore, eventually they moved out of the neighborhood.  My little group broke up after that because I "didn't need to know everyone's business".  I also wanted to be fashion designer, but couldn't draw to save my life, there was brief stint where somehow I was going to be on Broadway even though I never had a dance lesson in my life , and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. 

Those were all little girl dreams though.  Writing is what I keep gong back to.  In  high school my teachers were all convinced I would be a published writer.  I used to write stories that would make people cry or totally freak them out, but either way it was a gut reaction and I loved it.  As an adult I have had a few things published locally here and there, but mostly essays and pages of opinion.
I want more though.  I want to write something that will touch souls, make people question reality, create characters that everyone loves, hates, or wants to be.

The problem is I don't know where to begin.  I did find this page   It gives some great promps to get those creative writing juices flowing again.  I'm going to go the the store and pick up a brand new clean note book and give some of these a try.  I like to hand write when I'm doing something like that because I can't go back and edit things out.  They can just flow whether they make sense or not.  Wish me luck.  Maybe someday I'll have something worth reading besides all these whiney ass posts.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

This mid life crisis is no fun

Ok I need to start this whole thing all over again I think.  I have way to many things on my mind to just focus on the Monster.  I have it. I live with it. I will die with it.  That's it.  You know my back story, and I can't change it.

I think I'm having some sort of mid life crisis here at the ripe old age of 42.  What the hell is this about?  Maybe I'm reading too many YA books lately, BTdubs, if you like that genre I am currently obssesed with the"Experiment in Terror" series by Karina Halle  Love, love the way this chick writes.

Anyway, to get back to my little MLC issue, I think its more than just dealing with MS.   We just returned home from our first family vacation in years and it was absolutely great, but I have this sense of sadness clawing at my brain that I just can't shake.  On the way home I kept thinking, "everyone has something to go home to except me".  My Ace has her swimming, Lil has dance, Keith has work, and I have.....weeds to pull?   I just don't know what to do with myself.  I have let friendships fade, I really have no interests right now, and I just can't get motivated to find new ones.  I know those are all signs of depression, but I don't think that's the problem. I think I may be bored? I want something more for myself.  I don't want to always be up at 6:00 a.m. and start the day doing the same dishes, laundry and dusting. I feel lost.  I was fun once, a long time ago, I think.  I had a sense of adventure.  I still love to run, but lately it's not been enough.

My husband's best friend and his wife just had their fourth child this week, a boy finally, and I feel bad for my husband.  I know he wanted at least four kids and we talked about it, but after my Lil was born I just couldn't imagine another child.  I was exhausted, overwhelmed and knew that two were enough for me.  He says he's fine with it and couldn't more proud of our daughters, but I still feel like I let him down.  I didn't plan financially for the day when I couldn't work anymore even though I had plenty of time being diagnosed at 20yrs old.  I sometimes feel like he got the raw end of the deal when he decided to stick it out with me.

Oh and to top it off I went ahead and chopped all my hair off.  I was going for a cute pixie cut ala Michelle Williams or Ginnifer Goodwin, but ended up with frumpy old lady
Ok now I really have to quit my whining and get off my giant ass and do something with the rest of my life.  Stay tuned.