I’m a very good writer. I have been for literally as long as I can remember. There is never an issue coming up with the beginning or end of a story. For me, the issue is always the middle. Honestly, I don’t know why. Although it’s probably because of the little voice in the back of my head saying “do you really think anyone is going to want to read this? Come on now.”
I’ve kept journals most of my (almost) 27 year old life. There was only one book that I actually filled and unfortunately I no longer have it. I wish I knew what happened to it, because I really wanted to turn it into a book someday. That would be the type of story I’d have to write. I cannot come up with fiction. It has to be something that I know happened, not something my brain tried to make up. That is probably due to my anxiety. The other little voice in my head constantly telling me that everyone hates me, I’m a failure at everything I do, and that I’m never going to amount to anything. Not to mention all the other fun things anxiety throws in.
Mental health is very important to me, as someone who has both clinical depression and anxiety. Depression I could deal with on it’s own. Anxiety, not so much. The horrible thing about it is that my youngest son (who will be 2 in August), is EXTREMELY anxious. We have early intervention coming in, and in not so many words she told me it was my fault. Like thank you, definitely not something I ever wanted to give my child.
Sometimes I have a really hard time staying on topic, but it happens. Writing has always come natural to me. I’m okay at short stories and flash fiction (for the most part). I mean, I’d assume I am but I’ve never really let anyone else read my work. The way I see it, a blog is just an online journal. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, and hey judge me all you want. I really don’t care one way or another.
It’s really just a vice to get my thoughts and feelings out. I also cross stitch but that takes forever and I am horrible at it. I do try though, so there’s that.
I hope you’re all having a good day/weekend/whatever it is. I’m doing pretty well but I have a slight cold. It is what it is. Life happens, kids happen, germs happen. Lots of hand washing, sanitizing the apartment and hand sanitizer. If you’ll excuse me, my nose is running like a faucet and I am going to go blow it. Or shove a piece of tissue up there. Honestly, mom life so whatever’s easiest is the best option for me.