Hello. Good morning. It’s Thursday, and so it’s time for my weekly blog post.
I don’t quite know what I’m going to write today. That’s not so unusual; I often start my posts without any outline in mind. Perhaps that’s only too obviously to those who read this blog on a regular basis. Perhaps you would prefer that I made specific plans about what to write. If so, I can only apologize and say that, at least for now, I’m not able to do that. Sometimes when I try to plan what I’m going to write about, I feel stiff and tense about the writing, and it doesn’t flow well. Sometimes I suspect that is the reason my little project about analyzing and exploring villains from various books, movies, shows, etc., didn’t come off well. Probably, though, it was just because it wasn’t something that interested many people.
My editing has been going reasonably well this week, though I wish it would go faster. I don’t ever get quite as much done on any given day as I ought to get done. I find that, more and more lately, I need to take a rest in the morning and lie flat on the floor for my back to feel a bit better, and to clear my head and gradually break myself into the proverbial zone. I’m just gradually becoming more and more mentally and emotionally exhausted, and it’s harder to develop energy and focus. I still do it, of course, but it’s difficult. I don’t really have much in the way of mental/emotional support; I’m very much on my own, as it were*. Of course, in a sense, that could be said of everyone, but that would be a very cynical and pessimistic sense; I think it’s a bit too much even for the likes of me to claim.
Still, In the Shade continues to improve (I think), shrinking steadily but perhaps more slowly than at first, and definitely getting tighter and sharper…again, so I think, at least. I’m not at all sure that I’ll finish the editing by the end of summer and have the collection ready before autumn, but it’s difficult to judge. Time swirls about at bizarrely inconsistent rates—at “times” it feels like it passes ridiculously fast, the years being chewed up like…well, like some simile describing things being chewed up extremely quickly. At other times, it feels as though each moment is proceeding far too slowly, and I just want to get to the end much more quickly than is happening. I’m very tired.
I’m still pursuing that neurological thing that I mentioned last time—never yet by name in this particular blog—but the more thoroughly I educate myself, both from general consumption sources and from the medical and scientific literature, the more I’m convinced that I’m probably—almost certainly—correct in my assessment. But I don’t like to rely solely on myself, even though I trust my mental judgement at least as much as anyone else’s, and more than most.
I’m having a harder and harder time dealing with social interactions, whether online or in person. I even feel embarrassed writing comments on blogs and similar. I feel that I’m sure to be saying something irritating or boring or inexplicable and nonsensical that will make others wonder why I don’t just shut up and go away. Maybe that’s me projecting; goodness knows, a lot of the time I wish that I would just shut up and go away.
Anyway, I have at least put in inquiries to two organizations, one a non-professional entity that provides support and guidance and resources. I investigated their available recommendations for professionals near me, but haven’t been impressed, so far, by the locally available people listed. They don’t fill me with confidence or ease. The other, a strictly professional organization, may be more promising, though they’re a little bit far from where I am.
A big problem I have is that all these kinds of people and sites and organizations have options for, and require, and provide resources for, calling or online chatting, or whatever, and the thought of doing any of those things is just terribly stressful, let alone actually going to some office somewhere. I can talk on the phone at work, for goal-directed reasons, just as I’ve always been able to make friends or “friends” at school or work or whatever, in places where there’s a purpose, but when it’s seeking something for myself—let alone simple ordinary purposeless socialization—I’m at a loss.
It’s not that I’m afraid or anxious, exactly, though there is a bit of that; it’s just that I find the processes stressful. They take so much mental effort. I don’t feel I get much out of it, and I just inconvenience everyone else. The last time there was a work-related outing, when the office (as it were) went to a restaurant after work to celebrate a particular milestone, I developed a migraine as the day went on, and ended up just not going. I didn’t really put it together at the time, but the migraine was probably caused by the stress of anticipating dealing with a purely social situation.
So, asking for help at a personal level or a professional level is very difficult—mostly so daunting that I just can’t force myself to do it, even when I know I could really use it**. It doesn’t help that I’ve had terrible experiences when dealing with “crisis hotlines” in the past, as I think I’ve described here before. I’ve had other, similarly frustrating experiences on related occasions when seeking help or being forced to seek help.
I’m not sure at all what to do. There probably isn’t any one right answer or best answer, and if there is, probably no one knows what it is. The world is extremely complicated, and we’re never guaranteed that events will be fair or good or successful…at least not by any honest, reputable, reliable sources.
I know I’m being vague. I started off meandering and, by God, I kept meandering. That was the mode for today, I guess. Apologies. I hope to get again into a mental state where I can again feel optimistic about future writing and think and talk about the many story ideas and book ideas I have waiting in the wings. I’m not sure if I’ll reach that point, or how to reach it, but I guess it’s possible. In the meantime, I beg your patience and indulgence. I also ask that you treat yourselves and those around you as well as you possibly can and try to be healthy and happy.
*This is no one’s fault but mine.
**It’s a bit like finding myself having swum a too far out from a beach and realizing that I’m in trouble because the current is sweeping me ever farther away from shore. But calling for help will drain the strength I need to swim and tread water, and I’m not a very strong swimmer. The people I can see in the distance aren’t really looking in my direction, anyway, and they probably couldn’t hear me no matter what. And I’m not sure any of them are trained or qualified to make a rescue attempt without putting themselves at serious risk, which is something I certainly don’t want to happen on my account. Better just to tread water quietly, trying to make my way shoreward (though the shore keeps getting farther and farther away), and let the ocean take me if that’s what it’s going to do.