Just the Toes

written: July 19th

The weekends are the most difficult for me to keep up with the National Journal Writing Month Challenge.  With David home, it really throws off my typical schedule as I chose to run almost completely on his.  And I know that is a choice that I choose to make -- not like he truly requests it.....other than the damn dealership yesterday!  ::laughs::  And I have gotten so out of the habit of journaling, that it has become almost difficult for me to write when there are any type of distractions going on (looking at you, FaceBook!).  Used to, I could write anywhere, at anytime.  The need to write would descend and all I would have to do is touch pen to paper and it would just pour out.  The challenge then was simply trying to keep up with the deluge of words.  I did a lot of writing in crap spiral notebooks back then because my handwriting would truly look like chicken scratch scrawling across the page as I scribbled furiously, trying to keep up with the flow of words, thoughts, and imagery.

But now?  It seems I can only write in ten minute increments before my brain and my hand require a pause.  Not a full break, but a pause to pick up my train of thought once more.  Maybe I should make it a point to return to handwritten journals -- to do more with those than the online blogs.  And it is not like I have to use really nice journals for this.  Wal-Mart is already kicking off its Back To School sale, so I could pick up some spiral notebooks and/or composition notebooks, just for this purpose.  It might be good for me and my creativity.

I should make it more of a point to set aside time dedicated to just writing and journaling.  It used to mean so much to me, and then -- I went on anti-crazy pills -- and all my creativity and passion just curled up and DIED.  I am glad I sought professional help during that rough time, but damn, I am still clawing my way out of that damn pit.  I honestly don't know what was worse -- the crushing depression or the horrible haze the medication smothered me in.  I don't know if I will ever truly recover that part of me.

I miss the inspiration, but not the desperation -- nor damage done to others and myself done in that whirlwind time.  While I would love to dip my toes in the mania pool, I would certainly never dive back in.  ::laughs::