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Pulling Apart a Whole Ball of Yarn
May. 8th, 2024 11:31 am
I'm beginning to think I'm meant for a slower pace of life. The days move way too fast; too many of them end with me looking back on all the things I didn't do. Still, it's hard to think about what to change; it's just a fact of life that there aren't enough hours in the day.
The first week of this month has just flown by and I don't feel any more settled into a routine. A lot of that is on me and my lack of discipline, which I accept, but I'm also not sure how to make improvements. Maybe that's down to the fact I don't know what I want my life to *look* like yet. Do I want to write? Do I devote more time to whipping the house into shape? How can I improve the relationships that matter most to me? What am I doing right now that I can table for a little while to make room for other things?
I wish I had a bit more time to sit down and figure this out, but I don't. At least none that I can afford to take. It often feels like the best I can do is tackle the work in front of me quickly and efficiently.
And THAT always feels like two steps forward, one step back. I'll work to catch up in one area and then completely neglect it while I try to catch up elsewhere so then I'm back to "this only gets better if I make it a whole project". It feels impossible to get to a good "maintenance" cadence with anything because there's a steady stream of disruptions or shifting to make room for something else.
I think I just need some breathing room to feel like I can focus on one or two things at a time. Or maybe, I should be setting firmer boundaries in order to focus on one or two things at a time. But I feel guilty asking for it because...focus is so hard for me. Why ask for time or space when there's no guarantee I'll use it wisely?
And that's where the whole anxiety thing comes in. It's hard for me to talk about because I'm braced for people to diminish it or -- even worse -- try to support me in ways that make things that much more tangled. Writing/creating is something that really spikes my anxiety, and I need time to lower the emotional temperature before I feel ready to proceed. There has to be a buffer that allows me to shift gears and get into writer mode. It might get easier for me to do that with practice, but for now...just leave me be.
I feel like I need to develop my process on my own, even when I realize I haven't been successful at that in the past, say, 30 years. So what gives? If I can't be self-directed, what's the harm with trusting the advice of someone else -- especially when they're more successful?
That's...not a nut I can crack easily. Maybe I've gotten so resistant to authority that I instinctively rebel against any controlling influence? What would be the harm in being more...pliable, obedient, or at least more willing to accept help when it's offered, no matter how?
Maybe it's a trust thing. I just don't trust myself, or anyone, to do the right thing -- or to have my best interests at heart. Or maybe some part of me is still...dead and I'm trying to revive it out of sheer instinct. Most of the time effort to really achieve something difficult feels pointless. No one's going to be changed by what I have to say, no matter how hard I work on it, and the things I write aren't even things I'd read if they were written by someone else. I hate my own writing! Why subject anyone else to it?
I think there's an infinite bagel inside of me that has been pulling my willpower past its event horizon for a while now, just this pit of nihilism that makes everything extra-difficult. I get doing what you need in order to eat and live, but why do anything for the future? It doesn't matter. No one cares and we're all going to die.
It's hard to make art when you feel that way. Even if I were to write a story I loved, so what? No one cares. We're all going to die.
Most of me knows that writing isn't as big a waste of time as playing video games or watching YT but...is it really? Why not do the easier thing that brings you instant gratification? What's the point of busting your hump to write your best story possible when no one's going to notice it? And if they DO notice it, chances are it will attract ridicule or hostility?
I have to settle these questions every time I sit down to write. It's just not the kind of thing you can sort through in 30 minutes a day, but I feel like I have to if I have any prayer of...actually being a writer.
Anyway, that's what's in my head today.
The first week of this month has just flown by and I don't feel any more settled into a routine. A lot of that is on me and my lack of discipline, which I accept, but I'm also not sure how to make improvements. Maybe that's down to the fact I don't know what I want my life to *look* like yet. Do I want to write? Do I devote more time to whipping the house into shape? How can I improve the relationships that matter most to me? What am I doing right now that I can table for a little while to make room for other things?
I wish I had a bit more time to sit down and figure this out, but I don't. At least none that I can afford to take. It often feels like the best I can do is tackle the work in front of me quickly and efficiently.
And THAT always feels like two steps forward, one step back. I'll work to catch up in one area and then completely neglect it while I try to catch up elsewhere so then I'm back to "this only gets better if I make it a whole project". It feels impossible to get to a good "maintenance" cadence with anything because there's a steady stream of disruptions or shifting to make room for something else.
I think I just need some breathing room to feel like I can focus on one or two things at a time. Or maybe, I should be setting firmer boundaries in order to focus on one or two things at a time. But I feel guilty asking for it because...focus is so hard for me. Why ask for time or space when there's no guarantee I'll use it wisely?
And that's where the whole anxiety thing comes in. It's hard for me to talk about because I'm braced for people to diminish it or -- even worse -- try to support me in ways that make things that much more tangled. Writing/creating is something that really spikes my anxiety, and I need time to lower the emotional temperature before I feel ready to proceed. There has to be a buffer that allows me to shift gears and get into writer mode. It might get easier for me to do that with practice, but for now...just leave me be.
I feel like I need to develop my process on my own, even when I realize I haven't been successful at that in the past, say, 30 years. So what gives? If I can't be self-directed, what's the harm with trusting the advice of someone else -- especially when they're more successful?
That's...not a nut I can crack easily. Maybe I've gotten so resistant to authority that I instinctively rebel against any controlling influence? What would be the harm in being more...pliable, obedient, or at least more willing to accept help when it's offered, no matter how?
Maybe it's a trust thing. I just don't trust myself, or anyone, to do the right thing -- or to have my best interests at heart. Or maybe some part of me is still...dead and I'm trying to revive it out of sheer instinct. Most of the time effort to really achieve something difficult feels pointless. No one's going to be changed by what I have to say, no matter how hard I work on it, and the things I write aren't even things I'd read if they were written by someone else. I hate my own writing! Why subject anyone else to it?
I think there's an infinite bagel inside of me that has been pulling my willpower past its event horizon for a while now, just this pit of nihilism that makes everything extra-difficult. I get doing what you need in order to eat and live, but why do anything for the future? It doesn't matter. No one cares and we're all going to die.
It's hard to make art when you feel that way. Even if I were to write a story I loved, so what? No one cares. We're all going to die.
Most of me knows that writing isn't as big a waste of time as playing video games or watching YT but...is it really? Why not do the easier thing that brings you instant gratification? What's the point of busting your hump to write your best story possible when no one's going to notice it? And if they DO notice it, chances are it will attract ridicule or hostility?
I have to settle these questions every time I sit down to write. It's just not the kind of thing you can sort through in 30 minutes a day, but I feel like I have to if I have any prayer of...actually being a writer.
Anyway, that's what's in my head today.
