Welcome Back?
Dear Diary,
Well here I am.
Back at it again.
I am a bit rusty and I am sure that should be fine. Press one a key after another. Take it one word at a time. One small step for myself and... anyway, is that even something I can do anymore?
My therapist gave me this homework. Sit down behind the keyboard she said. Write whatever comes to mind. She even gave me a prompt (can you believe it?): "If you were writing during the past year, what would you have written about?"
It's simple really. I have ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE! How could I? I barely had time to focus on anything. My days were consumed with work, chores (which included sweeping the eggshells that I was always stepping on), and trying to make Her feel better.
Sidenote: I know it's stupid. That I'm being stupid. However I can't say her name. Just cut me some slack. I have not gone through that much therapy. It has been 2 months. For now we are sticking with, She/Her.
Look, all that I can tell you is that I wanted to write. I never have been one to not have an idea or two. I used to have "visions" if you will, of me sitting down and writing through the night; I thought I'd pen the next great American novel. Like the spawn of something, She'd show up and make sure my muse would runaway screaming. Just once I would've liked to have been able to even type a short story in peace. However, the reality of the situation was that I'd get no more than 6 words in and hear, "What about me? I haven't eaten yet?" Or some version of "I had a rough day, can we do X?". It was almost like She had and alarm for when I'd get on a roll. By the time we were done doing whatever; it would be time for a reasonable person to go to bed. Secret midnight (read: exhausted) writing is not as coherent as you'd think. *Current entry notwithstanding *wink*.
Sarah (Therapist) said it is all about balance. i.e. taking everything one task at a time. She hasn't lead me down a bad path yet. I mean Sarah was the one that convinced me that my relationship with Her needed to change. It's just that the hardest part was getting me to realize that my writing is just as important as any of my other obligations. Self-care she called it. New concept to me.
In the end, I may not be as bad at this as I originally thought. I may have even, maybe, slightly, begun to feel like a person again. All things being fair, it's probably time I name Her.
Her = Grace
Sincerely,
Gtace