I’m in a rut. A good, old-fashioned, my brain feels like sludge, rut. I’ll be fine. My creative muscle is just telling me it’s ready to shake things up. Usually when this happens I do a lot of abstract writing to work through what I’m feeling to get back on track. Some of it is light and witty. Some of it is purely my mind putting feelings to words. Sometimes it’s garbage. Sometimes…it works. _________________________________________________________________________________________________
It’s a cycle, and it always starts on one. Day one. Minute one. Second one. Third, fourth and fifth one. I’ve lost count. I land on it with surprise, relief, anger. It begins, I move on.
Pain. Guilt. Acceptance. What am I supposed to feel? All of them come. I’m okay. I’m not okay. Ticking off the marks. Everything feels like it should. In the beginning this is good. Too many ticks. Too much time. Everything feels like it should. This is not good.
I rip off a new layer, like a packet of post-its. I feel great about its thickness. With each removal I find courage I didn’t know existed. I charge ahead. It doesn’t even bother me anymore. Everything is fine. I work. I sleep. I dream. I remember. Everything is not fine.
Why does it stay with me? It is still early. Hope is there with each flip. We try. We wait. Moving forward and never back. Day upon day, week upon week. Tomorrow I am happy. Today I am sad. Reverse it, play it back. Begin again.
And so it goes, the up and the down. Ignorance doesn’t help. I have to make the switch. It is coming no matter what. A sign here. An ache there. I wish it were lies. I play it off. I push it away, but it follows me around. I cannot run away.
Everything stops. My world…is silent. I breathe to the beating of my heart. It is me alone.
I start back on one.