Tuesday, 1 August 2017

Fresh start

OK. Time to get down to business. You've got a house full of camping equipment and that's just the tip of the iceberg. You've got a headache and you have to be at the optometrist in 3 hours, in heavy traffic... So, you've got only two freaking hours left to get something done around here! OMFG. You haven't had breakfast yet and it's well past noon. Girl. WOMAN. Person, you have got to get it together. Shit now I'm sad...
Sometimes I realize just how much pain I'm hiding inside. Sometimes. The surface gets scraped away just slightly, unexpectedly. There's a lot of hurt in there. It needs to come out.
In the meantime, though, I really want to accomplish SOMETHING so I can feel a bit better about myself and in my environment (and give my dear husband a wee bit of hope).
Two hours left. Do I hammer out the to do list as I wanted to do? Do I hammer out that day-planning form that I wanted to make? Or do I just go eat breakfast/lunch and then get freaking busy on the biggest, most obvious clutter so my family (and I) can see a difference?

I want to both list and tidy...

Go get some food and that hammer out that list.
Give yourself 30 minutes. That will leave 90 minutes to go hard on the house and accomplish a little bit (pick the most visible tasks...😉).

Okay. It's a plan. Go get food and then write the list. Time is ticking.

Update: I spent almost two hours making the damn list (and replying to a few texts). I forgot to set a timer and forgot all about my 2 hour deadline. If I leave 30 minutes to get to the optometrist, 15 minutes to get out the door, that gives me 30 minutes to eat and do a mad dash tidy so that I've done SOMETHING with this mess... Go.

Rambling, stream of consciousness, meanderings. Whatever.

I'm here again. Writing is calming. It helps me feel accountable to myself.
It's time for a fresh start. Start what? Start taking care of myself and my family. Put away the camping gear. Choose a new career. Everything else. It's a long list, or it would be long if I wrote it. Mostly it's floating around in my mind and cluttering up my home.
Anyway, where was I or where should I be?
My mental to do list today started with, "Step 1. Find calendar." (Calendar/diary/blank book that would be a bullet journal if I remembered/took the time to use it.) Done, actually, but since I didn't write it down I don't get to check it off. (Damn!)
  1. Find calendar. Check.
  2. Water hanging baskets. One done; one to go.
  3. Water plants I bought but haven't yet planted.
  4. Buy Borax. Better yet, start a grocery list.  
Okay maybe this diarizing in a public forum is just really, really stupid. ... [Attempt to ponder; just stare and eventually realize that my brain is stuck on: "Don't care!"] ... I don't seem to care. I just want to write and it seems to be good for me. Why not make it all private? The only answer I have is the hope that one day someone will say that he/she gets it, or better yet, that someone will feel better by reading what I've written and feeling some common ground.
Anyway, I wandered again, didn't I? F#$&.
Perhaps if I'm going to write stream of consciousness (as in, journal, let it all flow out of me, which is where the healing happens... I think), I shouldn't berate myself when my mind wanders...
I berate myself because no-one would want to read such drivel... which is where I see the conflict in my desire to blog. I want to write for my own benefit... I tend to write stream of consciousness... I think that it helps my ADHD'd brain to sort things out... but I know that it doesn't makes for terrible, verbose, unfocused, boring, writing. Okay, so that tells me something: I have an interest in writing and I care about the craft of writing and its readability. I enjoy the craft of writing. I really do enjoy that process. ...on the other hand, THIS process of just letting it all out is also good for me (and even enjoyable). I mean, that sentence actually told me two things: 1. I enjoy the craft of writing for others. 2. Writing stream of consciousness really does help me to sort things out and learn things about myself. They are two different things but they are both true and valid. So then... Oh yeah: 3. For some reason I really do want to write in an open setting, because I do hope to help and to find common ground. However... [Big sighs and breathing while I ponder and work up to this (why the hell do I have to work up to this???] Do they necessarily have to happen simultaneously? I mean, I can write stream of consciousness for myself, and at some point, if I really want to be a writer, I can SEPARATELY and SUBSEQUENTLY craft a concise, reflected, version for public consumption.
Ah ha! 4. I don't want to do that because then I would have to admit to myself that I'm actually seeking public consumption of my writing. Then I would have to face the fear that my intentional writing is not good enough! If I consciously wrote and edited something for others to read, I would have to admit to myself that I'm trying to do something that seems audacious.
In my imagination, floating between my and my laptop, is an image of my father laughing at me. "You? A writer?" I don't really know where that comes from because he's never said that I'm a bad writer. ...no, but he's said that I shouldn't take chances. He's said that only rich people's kids can be artists, and are writers in that category?
He's definitely said that I should keep things to myself.
I disagree, but maybe, just maybe, the stream of consciousness can be for me alone. I like this format. I like typing, here. I like reading my posts with their pretty barbed wire backdrop. Maybe I do want to hear that I'm not alone... Is that ego? Or loneliness? I don't know. It's probably both, right?
Well whatever, I learned a few things today:

  • I like to write. 
  • Writing stream of consciousness helps me find order in my whirling thoughts. 
  • I enjoy the craft of editing, too. 
  • I like the idea of actually figuring out some helpful stuff, crafting it, editing it, and even (big jump over an emotional chasm) publishing it. I can state that. It doesn't mean that I necessarily will do it, or even want to do it enough to choose to do it, but it does at least interest me...
That's as far as that goes. I'm still on the fence about whether to turn this whole thing to a private setting (is that even possible?) or write in Word (probably makes the most sense) or whatever. i.e. It does seem most logical to do my private journalling privately, yet some part of me is resisting to the point that I'm wasting precious time trying to justify it... Ridiculous but also curious. I mean, WHY???? Why do I care so much? I guess...
  • I'm lonely.
  • It would feel good to help someone. 
  • There's that old fantasy that someone will read my blog and invite me to write that book... Hello Julie, I'm jealous of you... (Yeah mom, I know, it's not all about me...) See THAT cryptic thought is the type of thing that makes me think that private writing should be private. I know what that means and can come back to it later. In a public setting I feel that I should explain it as it suggests, misleadingly, that I resent my mom. On the contrary, it's been a source of guilt. She was right and I knew it immediately, and even more so when it was too late to hear her again. 
Life is heavy. 
I think I'm going to call this rant a day (which, yes, imagined critic, makes no sense -- another point in favour of keeping this on the down low -- to hush my inner critic!), and start a new post along the lines of the post that I'd envisioned writing today... Still, I guess this was the stuff that part of me needed to write...??? I don't know why. 
Over to the next post -- all about being productive and motivated and kicking some housekeeping butt. Woo freaking hoo. Yeah I'm trying to motivate myself and so far I'm just rambling as a form of procrastination... which seems like a really big faux pas. I mean, I'm talking to myself here, aren't I?!
Is that what it's come to? I'm talking to myself? I mean, I'm silent, but I'm writing a conversation with myself... Can't decide if this is totally fucked up and embarrassing, or if that's what writing, or at least diarizing, often is...??? Seriously. Can't figure it out because I'm stuck on the hot, intense, embarrassment... My arms are tense, my chest is tense. Breathe, breathe, breathe... 
Well that's something else to come back and ponder... When I can actually think because right now I just can't... 
Is it the fact that I'm writing that is blocking my thinking? Is it ADHD? Is it just me? Does everyone do this? 
I think it might be, if not the ADHD, the fact I'm writing. For public. 
OK. That's it. Im going to keep this in draft. so forget punctuation etc. what was the damn question? 
Oh, God, it was a stupid fucking question in the first place. 
It's possible that stream of consciousness writing eventually gets in the way of thinking because I'm too busy writing... and unlike writing with a pen and paper, I can see what I write after I've written it...! Not so with paper... not as clearly. 

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Change isn't easy

I'm trying, but it's slow. A few steps in, a lot of steps sideways, many steps back.
Today I was going to go to the gym. I dressed in my gym clothes, but I didn't have time for breakfast before my school run, so I pulled into a coffee shop. Which is near a bargain shop. Where I decided to go since my son lost another glove. Of course I then looked at handbags, sports bras, housewares, and water bottles, and they had no gloves in his size. I bought another pill organizer (bigger than the two I have), a box of votive candle holders, a wallet, and... probably some other stuff I've already forgotten. Nice wallet though.
I wasted over an hour in there.
Now I've got my breakfast/lunch.
I'm tempted to skip the gym since I've wasted so much time (and it's so boring).
No, I have to go. For my brain, for me, for my hubby and my son.
Time to eat, here in my car, and then go life weights. Even though I forgot to pack a towel or a change of clothes.
One step at a time Kady. You can do it. You just have to actually do it. Save yourself little girl. Save yourself.