Sinking.
That’s what I’ve been doing.
Not writing.
Not running.
Not working.
Not looking after myself.
I’ve had long blank months where I could have written that novel/children’s story/poetry/comedy script/blog.
And yet I do nothing.
Except sink.
The more I feel I *should* do something constructive, the more useless I feel.
I’m drowning.
I might thrash and splutter a bit, but not so much you’d notice.
My head barely struggles through another meaninglessly fluid day.
And when people tell me (when I tell me) I *should* be making the most of this, this most precious time, it’s like taking in another lungful of water.
I’ve hit an iceberg.
I’m holed.
I’m drifting, sinking.
I am going down into darkness.
All hands on deck.
Waiting for a lifeboat.
.
Ah, Jacque, I’m sorry. You’ve had a rough slog for a while, it sounds like. Forget Portsmouth. (Was it Portsmouth?) What you need is a sunshiny vacation in the desert. Same amount of sand, no chance of sinking. New Mexico, say… Seriously, though, holler if you need a friend. If nothing else, I’ll be happy to curse the iceberg with you, O Titanic Woman. xxx
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Thank you my beautiful Lifeboat Woman of the desert xxx Your words glitter like rescue beacons, giving me comfort that warmth and light is out there, I will be OK, if I can just hang on. And yes, how I wish I could float away to NM to meet you, and escape this dark sinking! I hope I will be feeling better soon and back to my usual nonsense. x
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Let us all Curse the Iceberg!
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@#$%-ing Iceberg!
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Blowtorching in progress … x
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I’ll share that lifeboat with you. I have so many creative ideas, but I just can’t find the energy to make them tangible. Sometimes the world just feels too big…
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I only hope there are enough lifeboats for all of us Kim x
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The darkest nights produce the brightest stars ….
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Wise words that I must remember. Every shadow needs its light.
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I saw this post days ago and have been thinking about you and how to reply. Then, a friend came over when I was sick with the flu, bringing soup and conversation. We talked about how hard it is to admit when we need help (emotionally or practically). Indeed, when she texted, “Can I bring you soup?” my impulse was to reply, “Thank you, anyway – I’m o.k” But for some reason, I actually found the habit-breaking strength to say “Yes, please!” Your post was vulnerable and human but I read strength in your words! What everyone else said: we’re both sinking with you AND we’re in the lifeboat. We understand.
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Thank you so much Kim. You understand perfectly and explain this so well. It took more human effort than I can describe to even sit and type this post. Everything seemed so useless. I know what I must do to float up again is to write. And run (or at least go out and walk). It’s like un-damming the river of black self-hatred and pointlessness of life, if (IF!) I can just make myself do it. It’s finding the will to make yourself, isn’t it? The soup is there. The friend is there. We just have to find the strength to say “Yes. Yes please!” I am so glad you have a lovely friend — and that you are over the flu, I hope!
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Yes, please write — and walk. Feeling the fresh air on our faces does help. Plus, if we can people-watch (or animal-watch or nature-watch), it may bring us outside of ourselves. ❤
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Something to ‘Bring us outside of ourselves’ – yes. This is what we all need to escape.
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Honest and truthful. Been there for sure.
Kill procrastination too!
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p.s. you choose the method 🙂
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I’m coming up for air. Thank you.
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For what it’s worth (and likely nothing you haven’t heard before, but at least this will be the first time, from me): I felt this way in 2012, or a similar way as you express in this piece, and it was a daily blogging practice, a ‘drip, drip, drip’ that helped pull me out of it, largely because my writing improved and I felt I was at least “doing something” even though of course, there are many things you’re doing when you’re not doing anything…but all that to say, just write. Harder for writers than you would think sometimes (to write), which is counter-intuitive, but sounds like that’s what you need if you say “I am” and then something needs to come next, perhaps an object for your verb. Cheers, and best wishes. Bill
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Thank you Bill. I am grateful for your words.
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