12 blog posts sit in my drafts folder unfinished. Knowing this makes my skin crawl. My obsession to wrap them up perfectly is like a fly I am unable to swat. Annoying as hell.
Is it quitting time?
This block started around the time my husband finished assembling my “blog nook” (fantastic timing! -insert sarcasm font-) which houses an adequate sized desk for my lap top, two floating shelves which holds dozens of books, and a plant I named after my dear childhood friend who died of cancer a few years ago.
The beautiful stage my husband took his time to create has been set, and I stand frozen in the spotlight.
At first I blamed my writer’s block on a finger I accidentally cut (deeply) while preparing a meal. The band-aid’s bulk kept me from effectively hitting the s, w and x buttons. But soon my finger heals and I flip open my laptop to the stark whiteness of the blank post page.
My over thinking escalates. My head is littered with snippets of ideas with no cohesiveness like molecules in a cell. (Do molecules bounce around randomly? I should google that).
I give up and head to a yoga class with the hopes that a peaceful mind and firmer tush will inspire me. Nope.
Maybe I should deactivate my blog like I did my Facebook account. That is definitely over dramatic. Easy there, Girl.
I up my recovery meetings because I wonder how the January newcomers are doing. I linger afterwards to talk with them. I know it helps them to vent. Listening to their stories actually helps me to remember my story. I drive home grateful for another day sober.
During quiet times of the day, I blame my writer’s block on my perfectionism and my need to inspire people. I scroll through old posts and wonder why there are few likes or comments. Do people think I suck? Am I so incredibly boring and ordinary? How come I am not the next Brene Brown or Glennon Doyle yet?
Oh yeah, because I am me.
I go on Instagram to see if “tush” is an actual word, or at the very least a hashtag. It is. While checking on the correct meaning of “tush,” I notice a friend of mine from the real world has DM’d me. She is checking in to see how my writers block is going. Lovely timing! (no sarcasm font) She is one of my biggest blog fans. I give her that title because I get such kind feedback from her.
If she is reading it this now, I need to go on record to thank her. Thank you, my friend!
Maybe I shouldn’t quit. Maybe I will write the word perfectionism on a piece of paper and burn it in our back patio fire pit.
If you have gotten this far, I appreciate it. Was it as labor intensive as me writing it?