Tuesday was tough. A lot of things didn’t go my way.
You notice I don’t say they went wrong. They didn’t. They went painfully right. I won’t go into everything that kicked me in the gut that day, but I think I will write about one. Here goes:
For a ridiculously long time I’d been dragging my feet about releasing Blood Marriage. There were a number of reasons for that, not the least of which was the fact that there were two chapters I felt squeamish about. I’d been searching for a fix, but was paralyzed by indecision.
Tuesday, having already had one of those days, I thought, “Oh well, I’m already in the frying pan, why not jump into the fire and just finish myself off?”
I printed one of those squeamish bits and took it to my critique group. I returned home feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach.
Over the last few years, one small step at a time, I’ve been giving up my negative coping techniques. So I’m currently more vulnernable than I wish to be. I actually FEEL stuff. And it’s unpleasant. Though surprisingly survivable. Who knew?
Anyway, without my negative coping techniques, I went to bed still FEELING and woke up still feeling. And in a bout of self-pity, I posted here. And then…to my complete astonishment, I sat down at the keyboard and fixed the squeamish bit.
At any rate I don’t feel squeamish about it anymore.
Better still, I had comments by Wendy, Jen, and Annie – who could have scolded me for my little website pity-party but instead wrapped me in kindness and encouragement. You ladies are the best!
That was Wednesday. Thursday morning, instead of doing what I’ve been doing lately – absolutely nothing except staring at the walls and mourning the fact my boys left for college two weeks ago – I cleaned my house. There’s something about a clean house that’s life-affirming, mood-lifting, satisfying, and joyously HOPEFUL.
So. I am writing. In a clean house. And Life is Good!