Is it possible to feel elated and down at the same time?
I have been feeling a little down lately. Struggling, wrestling, with the thought that everything I do slips into nothingness. That no matter which way I slice things, I’m flailing around like a bird with a broken wing.
And at the same time, I feel happy. Happy that I have my faith, my hubby, my stepson, my furbabies. How is this possible? How can I feel alone and surrounded at the same time? Why am I cranky? And if I’m happy, why do I push away the people I love?
These feelings often directly coincide with my writing. When I’m not writing, I feel like a failure. It’s only when I’m able to sit and put words to a page that life takes on that extra special meaning. And then, I wonder if those words are any good. And then, I feel guilty that writing is such an influential part of my emotions. Go figure.
I’m not fishing for compliments. Like any conflicted author, I doubt myself. Doubt whether I can take the story out of my head and put it into words. Doubt if I can make my readers feel how I am feeling as I write. Doubt if I’ll have time to tell all the stories in my head. And then, I doubt my self-doubt. Am I being overly dramatic? A drama queen? Looking for someone to prop me up because I am unable to do it myself?
What if I’m just whining? Or complaining? What do I have to complain about? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And so I pick myself up out of the dirt, dust myself off, and go on. Suck it up and get over it.
Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?
But I still feel doubt creeping in like a whisper on the air. Even after recently completing the draft of a novel. I finished Shadowmark #3 the other day. The feelings of elation at a finished draft soon plummeted into those inevitable, terrible, misguided thoughts that no one would read it. That it didn’t live up to my own ideal of what it should be. (There’s that dramatic streak again!)
If this is your first introduction to my blog, I’m truly sorry! Not all of my writing is depressing. I might publish this, and I might not. And if you happen to read it, don’t be surprised if I take it down at some point.
Why would I do that? Because I would be embarrassed about my feelings. Revealing my chaotic, innermost thoughts is difficult at the best of times. But when I’m feeling down?
Terrifying. Like I am exposing too much. I should try harder to hide it. Tonight, though, I don’t have the strength to.
I prefer to write about adventures. Real life should have more of them. Right now, my life sounds more like the life of a good little hobbit–“She never went anywhere or did anything unexpected.”
So, I’m doing something unexpected and hitting “publish” on this little post. If you’ve stuck with me this long, maybe it’s because you know how I feel. Or maybe you are rolling your eyes at my rambling. That’s okay. Saying all of this to you is easier somehow than burdening a family member. Thanks for being a shoulder to lean on, even if I don’t know you. My next post should be warm and fuzzy. 🙂
Thanks for listening.