It seems that things may have finally run their course here at home, at least I hope so. It has made for a very long week and I look forward to getting things back to normal. Of course, having sick people home and being ill myself has thrown a real kink into my writing, not just of this blog but for Unbound as well. Since we are now in a new month, I decided to view it as a mini challenge. I want to put as much effort into writing for these twenty eight days as I did for this past NaNoWriMo and see what happens. I know this will mean a lot of pure, from the heart to the keyboard, writing with no editing… again… but I think in the end it is going to be worth it.
Speaking of my WIP, not being able to sit down and stare at a blank screen every day has left a lot of ideas bouncing around in my head and I have had some breakthroughs in the story arc, character development, and even a new scene or two. Not sure how it’s all going to come together, but I am getting excited about this again.
More so than that, I am again finding the emotional connection I had with the main character which I had lost to some degree. It was certainly the the passage of time added to the near burnout I suffered in dealing with my own personal demons… or was she an angel in disguise? Either way, I can once again close my eyes and see her, see so many things connected with her and her story and feel my heart soar with her triumphs and break with her failures. I can feel her hope and her fears.
This is something so hard to explain, this emotional connection I feel with what I know is a part of myself, and yet in my mind I can see her as a separate person, living her own life within the story I am creating. So much like a dream one remembers with total clarity upon waking. Even though this is all in my head, I sometimes feel like a spectator, simply recording what I see. I don’t know if there are other writers who read any of what I post, but if you do and you understand what I mean, drop a note and tell me I’m not totally crazy.
On a different and darker note…
I have another therapy session Saturday. Unfortunately, I also have another doctors appointment earlier in the day, so I am going to have to go to both presenting as male. This is proving to be a bit of a problem… As many here know, I went to my last session full femme for the first time. It was only the second time I had dared to go out, but both times was such an empowering experience. The first times in my life I felt one hundred percent myself. The first time I have been in public without fear or doubt. The first time i really ever felt like myself. I have found my thoughts returning to those moments time and again. I long for being able to live every day that way. Just being myself without pretense. I’m not saying there wasn’t fear, there was, I’m not saying I wasn’t nervous… I was. But there was something different this time because it just wasn’t the same as anything I have ever experienced before. I was aware of those things but they just didn’t carry the same weight as before. I felt I was able to face them with the knowledge that this is who I am. Going out presenting as male seems more and more like a lie, a deception. It isn’t who I am, it who others expect me to be. It isn’t my truth, it is theirs. At my last session my therapist asked how long I might be able to continue living two lives before I became resentful and angry. I know she meant this in regards to A and my family obligations, but I find I am already angry and resentful, not at them, but at a society which insists I live my life in ways that make it comfortable, that meet its expectations of who it says I should be.
I don’t know… I just don’t know anymore. Maybe it’s just because this week has been so stressful, maybe because I’ve been ill and it took more out of me than I realized. Whatever the case, I have found myself feeling more and more as if it isn’t worth fighting anymore. I just want to give up… everything. Though what that would accomplish is beyond me. I realized last night that as long as I know my kids need me, then certain things are off the table. So that is another door closed to me by my own hand…. Every where I turn I seem to be boxing myself in, bound by my own sense of honor and duty. My own family failed me so many times, in so many ways and there is that within me which refuses to follow their example… that no matter the personal cost I will do anything for those I love because to me they are worth more than I will ever be.
Maybe this is just too much. Maybe I’m just whining, looking for an excuse to throw myself a pity party. Maybe I should follow my own advice and learn when to “just shut up.”
Just one final note…..
In looking for a picture for this post, I saw the picture below… I wonder, is this me?