Trying to find the words

I’m not ignoring you, blog, I promise. It’s just I either haven’t had time or when I sit down nothing ever feels good enough. I know it’s all in my head, but even then there is a part of me who can’t let the words be written.

I’m in a funk, it’s a classic sign for me. The desire to write is there, but the ability? Not so much. I’ve been filling my time with movies, and TV and things that let my mind wander in a way so I’m not so immersed in my own thoughts.

Because that is the problem, I think to much. I worry, stress, think and over analyze what happens to be going on around me and then I let my life shut down in favor of seeing everything else.

And I forget to do the simplest things. Eat, sleep, write, sometimes I forget to blink. I’m a bit nuts.

I want to finish my blog about England, but I want it to be witty, intelligent and memorable. So I can look back on it years to come and go, “Yeah, I had a kick ass time.” instead of going, “Jesus, I am dull as hell.”

I want to tell you about the week John was here, and how amazing my friends and family can be. How my brother wore a blue hobo coat and the “Todds” (Really nice people, by the way.)

I have so much to say, and infinite space to do it in, and yet when I go to write about it, I just can’t. I will find something else to do. I will distract myself. Why?

Hell if I know.

I do know this. In my six months of unemployment of England, I’m going to write. Eat, sleep, breathe and live writing. I’m going to read about writing, write about writing and actually write.

Not to brag or anything, but about four (Yup, four.) people have told me to write a book. And that is fine and dandy, but I can’t pick a topic. I’m not an expert at anything and more importantly, I hate re-reading my stuff.

It makes me pick it apart more, love it less and doubt myself in a way that frightens even me.
But I’m going to do it. I’m moving to England, which is the biggest adventure I could embark on short of a sex change operation, and perhaps with the fear of leaving the safe and known behind, I should leave my fear of failure, rejection and not being good enough as well.


Apparently I did have things to say, but it’s nothing I wanted to talk about. Shame.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sometimes we all get in those funks, but sometimes you have to just force yourself to write, even if it seems unbearable, instead of falling deeper into that funk.

But a new journey will probably bring much inspiration and ideas, so that is always a great thing to look forward to.