I haven't written shit or shinola in the past week, as far as writing. I feel like I need to, I made a commitment to do this, and I try to count my blog, but more often than not, I'm boring here. My day-to-day life is not very compelling. Writing about it is certainly not using my craft.
If indeed, I do possess a true gift for the craft, which I sometimes doubt.
I'm so lazy. I have problems finishing projects. I always have. I can remember trying to teach my cousin Peggy to knit, and my aunt commenting that I need to finish things I start. I distinctly remember a shrink I used to see telling me, you can't go on to another thing, meaning relationships, until you've finished the last. I leave threads hanging all over every thing I sow.
I did, however, become adept at tying up loose threads with past relationships. They all hate me. No loose ends with that. I do it that way. I'm not particularly proud of this, but I did rock a few worlds back in the day and beat feet when my life started inspiring me to listen to country music in more than an ironic/iconic way. Going got tough, Lisa got going.
That was the Story Of My Life.
Martin and I have had every sort of crisis and downturn and awful thing happen. Everything horrible you can imagine happening to a couple, short of cheating or our child getting sick. Financial ruin, check; substance abuse, check; physical illness and/or catastrophe; check. I've hung onto it all. I've turned it over and dwelled on it and let it go. Just let it go and move on. It's been a big realization for me. Like, we fought the law and the law didn't win. We did. I'm the least romantic of people. I hate the mushy shit. Martin loves romantic comedy movies, he believes in romance, but he also believes I really need my anti-depressants as well, so I guess it's working.
Now, I need to write. Like one of my inspiration books says, "If not now, when?"
It's okay to be filled with doubt about this. I know, I know in my mind and in my heart, sometimes, I can write something, if only a sentence, sometimes a whole passage, that can knock my socks, and yours, off.
I just need to do it.