I seem to be in a bad place. I know it’s PMS–it always is–but this time I can’t seem to shake the lingering melancholy. It feels as if suddenly all my confidence is gone. I thought at one time I was a pretty good writer, after all, I had gotten published, and more than once. It’s been years since my last piece was published, and I’ve barely written anything since my solo play, which now sits in a computer folder, forgotten and forgettable.
I suppose I’m just afraid to take anything to the next step, like actually performing my solo play. I no longer believe I can do it. I’ve considered selling the play, or attempt to sell it, but that involves a little more work than I’m really interested in doing.
I put a notepad and pen at my bedside so I can jot down all the thoughts that come to me just before sleep. It’s been there three days. It’s still blank.
Blank is the word. A word I’ve come to hate and am having a hard time accepting. I could just try to embrace the Buhddist attitude, but lately I find that difficult.
H says I need more activity during my day, keep my mind active. I’m on the computer about 2/3 of the day, working on genealogy. These past few weeks I’ve been typing up all my families in concise little bios. Then I can print them out and fill in more details. Hope to have most of these roughed out by the end of the year. I’ve got a good start, but the task can seem daunting at times and I have to put it aside.
That’s when I dabble a little at my jewelry making. Nothing spectacular, but fun, and easy to make and the rings are so pretty. I feel great when I finish a nice piece, post it on my site. Then I check my site daily to see if anyone else likes what I’ve made. I get good feed back that people do like them, but no one wants to buy. I suppose, just like me, no one else has money to spare on costume jewelry. Maybe I haven’t found the right medium. Perhaps I should do craft shows/bazaars. Again, that involves research I’ve just not done. Why? I used to use the excuse that I was too busy or too tired. Now that I’m no longer working, I wonder what my excuse is?
Well, I think I’m done whining, at least for this month. I’ll just put the abilify back into my antidepressant mix and tell the doc, that it wasn’t working going off of it. I’m already coming out of a bad place, and hopefully won’t be going back any time soon.
Now…I’m off to dig through my old stories and doing some rewrites. Hang onto your hats, you may just see a short story or two soon.