I am going to try and keep up with this writing thing.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve begun a writing project and then stopped half way through. I am never sure how and why I stop writing, because I always want to write. I want to remember. Every day, I plan out the posts in my head; I revise drafted thoughts. I never actually write any of it down. But, I do think about it. I think about how long it would take to physically draft something, about how scheduling a post is just a click of a button. I think about how I don’t even need to find a pen anymore. I have a computer in my pocket. Typing is not necessary in a world of voice notes. Talk to text could be my savior.
I don’t want this blog to end up half started, sitting in cyberspace, waiting. As much as I want to write I also feel like I can’t actually put thoughts down anywhere unless it is the right time. Even though I am acutely aware that the best time isn’t always the best time. Sometimes, the best time is, in fact, the worst moment. Opportunity waits, and all that.
Twenty-twenty-two was a year composed almost entirely of challenges. Too many emergency room visits for my liking, and lots and lots of waiting. Waiting on tests, waiting for doctors, waiting for big decisions. And, it felt like there was nothing to do in the in-between times of points A and B, or even points C and F. Believe me, I tried to keep busy. Rampant cleaning? Sure. Family phone calls? Okay, yes, I can do that. Googling and questioning and preparing? Sign me up. But after those things, what else is there?
Oh, right. Spiraling. I did quite a bit of that. Even through the planning and the hyper focusing and trying there seemed to always be both right and wrong moments to spiral.
It has taken months, but I feel like I just now may be coming out of the spiral. Not fully, but, enough. And, I think I’ve come to terms with not “keeping up” in the ways that I have before. Once in a while is better than not at all.