A little check-in.

I have been all sorts of internal weirdness lately, none of it particularly bad, but not entirely motivated to write about it either. Thus silence on this blog, in my journal and at my laptop in general for the past week. Like writer’s block, except I think it might be less about not being *able* to write than not *wanting* to write. Why is that? Perhaps because I’m a little unsure of myself these days, a little anxious and down and I hate to admit that in writing, as if penning it makes it more true. So easier not to write at all.

I got up this morning though, despite misgivings about writing at all, and put 1000 words or so down on the page. 400 I kept, discarding the rest, but the upshot is that I started a second scene in what I hope might end up as a novel or novella. I’m just playing with a story at this point, writing out particular scenes to see if there is enough there to turn into a longer work, if it will hold my interest for long enough to complete. The bottom line though is that I got up this morning and wrote for the first time in about ten days, and I plan to do the same for the rest of mornings this week. Perhaps by the end of it I’ll have a whole new scene drafted, to go along with the first one. And then I can start another.

So that’s good. But it’s made me realize that a lot of my self-confidence lately is tied to this and other routines, and I suspect that this recent disruption in them, like the anxiety, is tied to quitting smoking (six weeks today). Yes, I am starting to feel more normal again, but I haven’t quite shaken particular avenues of obsessiveness (finances, weight gain, relationship) and it’s definitely wearing me down. I just want to enjoy my life right now, the fact that things are going incredibly well on all fronts, but instead I’m feeling nagged by myself all the time and everything seems like a monumental effort.

It will pass, I’m sure, but this phase has made me quiet on here because what could I possibly say that would matter to anyone? I’m too lazy to write. I can’t get my thoughts straight. Etc. All excuses to do nothing that would challenge the part of me who would rather remain unsure and thus unchallenged. A little fragile on that front. A little tired of the amount of work it all takes.

But holidays are on the horizon next week, the wedding of my brother, a hiking trip with Brian planned for several days after that. I just need to find a way to believe in myself again, as silly as that sounds, to find the excitement about my own potential that I felt only a couple of months ago. I’m hoping that some outdoor time, some new skill development (kayaking!), and reigniting my productive routines will combine to bring me back into focus. My life is *damned* good and I know it, but I don’t always feel it. Odd how that works.