I'm feeling so disinterested in life these days, which has equaled to next to no writing.
I shouldn't be surprised with the current fibromyalgia flareup. It is always guaranteed after a period of high stress or sickness or even being unusually busy. I've had some stress on the home front, and don't seem to be waking rested, which is probably not helping my cause. It's possible that the extra low energy is contributing to my detachment with writing. I am finding it to *feel* like it's The Pursuit Of Nothingness. Seems I fell into this mood last year around this time (from past blogs). I want to keep to it, I do. I just find I love writing a little less, with each blow by bllow.
My heart is also hurting for my best friend who lost her mom last week. I am so sad for her. She is just beginning the grief rollarcoaster ride I embarked on October 18, 2012. I find my mind drudging up memories of this heartbreaking experience of my own, while I dread that my friend has to go through these things as well. So much pain.
In the past three months so many people have passed away. I should correct that. So many PARENTS. It's such a difficult time for them, and I'm finding to be a bit of a tough one on me as well.
With a distracted mind, I find I'm not get anything that can be called progress on my WIPs. I have ideas that I jot down from time to time, or a spurt of a scene/chapter that I will sit and scrawl out. But everything is random, and all feels quite feeble in those brief attempts.
The dreary cold weather could also be at play here. The endless greyness and dampness that settles deep within a heart and mind. I'm trying desperately to shake it off. Literally because I feel like I just can't get warm enough.
I find myself longing for the days when I worked on board a cruise ship. It literally was a blessed escape from reality. These days, with days filled with such bleakness, I want so badly to escape. But I know I can't, not really. And, in truth - I wouldn't leave my friend; I want to be there when she needs a shoulder. So that means I just have to work on altering my perspective and really hope to be successful at doing this. Because I miss the passion I felt for writing - back before I got all serious about becoming a published author. Writing for publication, is really not the same as just writing. It's way less grueling, for one. So, I think for this upcoming week - or as long as it takes - I'm just going to read. And keep reading, until the passion is reborn.
One page at a time. As they say.
I shouldn't be surprised with the current fibromyalgia flareup. It is always guaranteed after a period of high stress or sickness or even being unusually busy. I've had some stress on the home front, and don't seem to be waking rested, which is probably not helping my cause. It's possible that the extra low energy is contributing to my detachment with writing. I am finding it to *feel* like it's The Pursuit Of Nothingness. Seems I fell into this mood last year around this time (from past blogs). I want to keep to it, I do. I just find I love writing a little less, with each blow by bllow.
My heart is also hurting for my best friend who lost her mom last week. I am so sad for her. She is just beginning the grief rollarcoaster ride I embarked on October 18, 2012. I find my mind drudging up memories of this heartbreaking experience of my own, while I dread that my friend has to go through these things as well. So much pain.
In the past three months so many people have passed away. I should correct that. So many PARENTS. It's such a difficult time for them, and I'm finding to be a bit of a tough one on me as well.
With a distracted mind, I find I'm not get anything that can be called progress on my WIPs. I have ideas that I jot down from time to time, or a spurt of a scene/chapter that I will sit and scrawl out. But everything is random, and all feels quite feeble in those brief attempts.
The dreary cold weather could also be at play here. The endless greyness and dampness that settles deep within a heart and mind. I'm trying desperately to shake it off. Literally because I feel like I just can't get warm enough.
I find myself longing for the days when I worked on board a cruise ship. It literally was a blessed escape from reality. These days, with days filled with such bleakness, I want so badly to escape. But I know I can't, not really. And, in truth - I wouldn't leave my friend; I want to be there when she needs a shoulder. So that means I just have to work on altering my perspective and really hope to be successful at doing this. Because I miss the passion I felt for writing - back before I got all serious about becoming a published author. Writing for publication, is really not the same as just writing. It's way less grueling, for one. So, I think for this upcoming week - or as long as it takes - I'm just going to read. And keep reading, until the passion is reborn.
One page at a time. As they say.
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