#199 - The Great Pop Tart Hunt (sde iv no. 6)

I haven't been feeling like writing lately.

So I haven't been writing, lately.

And that would all be fine except I tend to notice that there's something Wrong when I'm Not Writing and in my ongoing attempts to not let myself capitulate to my absolute worst instincts, I forced myself to write for seven days in a row instead.

But, well, I don't feel very motivated to write right now.

The worlds falling apart and I'm trying to stay positive without being delusional.

I do believe we'll overcome it, but I am also terrified of what it will mean if the cost of living just keeps increasing with no social safety nets in place.

And I'm also in the middle of this really big ongoing job thing and trying to figure out my own path forward and I thought I had more time but it turns out that there's really like...no time left, actually. And that's so scary!!! And I'm actually terrified all the time but simultaneously feel paralyzed and have no clear answers despite begging for them for months on end!!!!

I feel wrung out and humiliated and silly which adds up to making me feel stupid.

And I'm also having this big realization about how my actions throughout my life have actually been wildly different from the actions that were happening in my head and what I thought I was expressing vs. what I was saying/doing/making other people feel.

But I'm really REALLY trying not to fall back into a self-destructive victimization pattern where I realize something "bad" about myself only to allow myself to wallow about it.

Growth mindset babeeey! What are my actions TODAY! What are my options TODAY?!

And it turns out, today was kind of a bust. I had very little concentration, I had a great time with my friend in the afternoon, and my biggest vindication came from finding Cinnamon Pop Tarts after visiting three stores and not finding a single packet.

(When I did finally find them, I had to purchase the 12 pack as that was the only size they had. It was also only 30 cents more than the six pack of pops, so, it was really the fiscally responsible choice at that point.)

Beating myself up won't give me back today, it will just leave me bruised for tomorrow.

And tomorrow is about laundry in the early EARLY morning followed by work stuff and me attempting to get things done so that I can like...move forward even if moving forward is really fucking scary and I don't know how to do it and my biggest fear is not being up for it after all.

I know I am. I know I'm capable. But right now I feel like I'm floundering so I'm having a really hard time remembering that.

I worked out today for the first time in a while. THIS right HERE this very essay is #6 which means I'm really close to accomplishing that goal and also, somehow, ONE ESSAY AWAY from hitting the 'ol #200 which actually feels incredibly wild because what do you mean I've done something 200 times?? And some of them have turned out like REALLY WELL and very few of them have ever really made me feel bad/sad/ashamed after publishing??

I've had a weird year. I've had a weird few years. I've had a weird life.

I'm doing my best, my best is not always good enough, but boy oh boy do I really try hard and barrel in whatever direction I find myself pointed in.

So now, I've got to point myself forward.

Keep going. Trudge on. Figure this shit out.

It's MY life and it's not anyone else's and this is MY blog so I'm not even going to let myself apologize for falling apart a little bit in writing (that I'm going to publish because it feels good to be honest, I stopped telling people I was struggling because it didn't feel like there was anything anyone could do to help and that made them feel guilty and me feel guilty because I had made them feel guilty–so I called the whole thing off) but sometimes the struggle still burst through at the seams because you can't hide, really.

People go on reality shows all the time and think they'll get away with it.

But people can tell.

I can tell. I know this isn't the version of myself that Does Well. This is the version that wallows and wants everyone to be aware that she has REALLY GOOD REASONS to do it and DOESN'T WANT PITY BUT MAYBE DOES WANT A HUG.

So tomorrow, we wake up at 5:15 in the morning and it will be super dark because the mornings are no longer sunny (booooo) and I will do all my laundry and feel amazing and accomplished and then I'll do my work and I'll write my 200th (!!!) Smoke Show essay and maybe I'll feel a little more glued back together.

Maybe I won't, but we're still gonna do it because that's what WE DO!