This blog is what was missing from my life. After being at my new job for a year, being married for a year, and moving out of Bay Ridge, my life was solid. Everything that needed to fall into place had fallen into place and I was left with a sense of calm and also a LOT of free time. Like a lot. Like, I don’t start work until 11 what in the world am I supposed to do with my mornings? Normal people don’t wake up at 9am every day when they have a full time job and I’m usually in bed by 10:30. My sister pointed out that literally no one needed that much sleep, including me.
In the summer I would get up early and work out to youtube videos or DVDs. I tolerated it, and did it, but I didn’t love it and I didn’t feel like it made me any more or less energized for the day. I needed a way to fill my mornings, but at that point I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to get another job or start a business or do any extra “work.” I just didn’t want to feel like I was wasting time anymore.
I think a big part of why I came back to writing was because I stopped going to therapy. It wasn’t a rogue decision, we spent a lot of time discussing whether or not I was ready to end. I had been in therapy off and on since Junior year of college, and the entire time I was a teacher. My therapist helped me so much in figuring out my issues with weight and food, and how to move past my childhood, and ultimately how to find the strength to leave teaching and have a life that was more beneficial to me as a human. It was hard for me to believe that I could do anything other than be a classroom teacher, but through hour after hour on that beige, and then grey after she got new furniture, couch, I moved on from teaching and from her as well. I think she was happy that I was finally ready to move on, it had been a long road.
But the end of therapy left a void for me. A void where I usually put my feelings, but wasn’t sure how to express them anymore. I kept a journal from freshmen year of high school through sophomore year of college. When I look back I think my emotions became too intense for me to deal with on my own, which is why the writing stopped when therapy started. Now that I’m in such a better place in my life than I was as a teenager, I can finally start again. And, I can have an audience just by virtue of putting the words on the internet. This might make me sound like an old lady, but I still can’t get over how cool this is.
The writing has really been what was missing. Evan is so happy I have found a hobby that doesn’t involve being horizontal on the couch and yelling at the TV. I’m thrilled to be in a place where I have extra hours in the day that are not consumed by work or worrying about work or decompressing from work.
Now is where you might think I’m crazy. I’m participating in NaNoWriMo, that’s National Novel Writing Month to the uninitiated. Its an organization, and website, and twitter handle, that you sign up for and then write a novel in 30 days, the month of November. I’ve known about it before but have never felt confident enough in my own ideas to actually do it. What I didn’t know is how supportive the website and the community are. There is so much emphasis put on just writing the book, no editing, no worrying, just getting your first draft on paper. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m at 6243 words and I’m writing a Young Adult novel from the perspective of a teenage girl named Brooklyn. It’s weird to be in her head sometimes, especially like now when I’m writing as myself and not her, but I’m loving getting to know this character and deciding how her life will go. So if I’m not here as much for the next month, I’m over there. Come say hi!