Bereft

>> Monday, June 1, 2009

I'm feeling very uncertain about all of the things I want to accomplish in this life. I have moments of hot and cold, of inspiration and apathy, and they change fluidly from one to the other so quickly that it seems impossible to get any one thing done. As soon as inspiration hits for any particular project, on the heels comes the dull ache of depression that stops me from following through on any one thing. I end up reading romance novels instead.
I want to write.
I want to paint.
I want to stretch.
I want to dance.
I have ideas and true inspiration. I get excited. I want to study and learn and apply it to Something. And then a plan forms. And then I start filling in the blanks. I have a plot and scenario. I have inklings of characters that I'd like to explore. I have a body that I'd like to use.

And then the thought of tomorrow hits me. And the mundane reality of having to go to bed, to get up to go to work, to go shopping for food, to do it all over every single day, sinks in and it sucks up my energy so completely I feel bereft. I feel empty. I feel overwhelmed and sad and scared and anxious and I just have to something, anything to just numb myself up and RELAX.

Famous: The Scream (not my property)


And relaxing has nothing to do with writing and painting and stretching and dancing and yoga and art and sex and cleaning and cooking and laundry and working and living.

So what do I do now?

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