Feeling Blah

 For no reason at all, here’s a video of my cat Mitchell being a poopoo head. 

I don’t think I have it in me anymore to write my book. I’ve mentioned it here before- the book I wanted to write is called The Child Advocate.  The extremely rough draft has about 45,000 words.  It’s “based on” my own experiences working with kids and what I learned along the way. 

When I started writing it, the creative juices were really flowing. Then I started having memory after memory and I was like, damn. I have really been through a lot with this crap. It was at that point that I decided to go to therapy to process all of this.  You can read about my ups and downs (mostly downs) Here. 

I think therapy has sabotaged my ability to write this book. Every time I sit down, I hear the one who didn’t believe key elements of my story and also the one who basically yelled at me to get over it. I cannot bring myself to write and publish something that got me those reactions from therapists.  If someone actually read my book though, and either found it unbelievable or thought I was just some whiner that needed to get over shit, I would be ok with that.  Coming from therapists hits fundamentally differently.

After that, several more “free consults” proved that they have a problem with my marriage, due to the fact that we met at work.  I cannot just start therapy again, I have to constantly ask if they’re ok with my marriage. They’re either not ok with it, or they are and they insinuate that once we build trust, they can help me see how wrong it is. How about no. I do not want to lose my autonomy. 

The spark to write it just isn’t there anymore. I realized this last night when one of the therapists who I had a free consult with kept me on her mailing list for whatever reason and invited me to a free group zoom meeting called “celebrating neurodiversity.”  Now the neurodiverse label, I don’t know. I have already been diagnosed and then undiagnosed with two different things, who knows if these people would undiagnose me with ADHD if they could. Obviously they could- the only diagnostic tool used on me was a checklist that took 60 seconds. But I looked at all the other faces on the screen and something in me just knew that the past couple years of trying to “seek therapy” has drained all the creativity out of me. I don’t even want to do my quilts and wreaths anymore. When one young woman started sharing that she just doesn’t know how to establish a morning routine, I clicked exit and said screw this. I don’t have time for this anymore. At least this bullshit was free. 

Regarding morning routines- not all days are the same. You need two or three different routines that will work for different types of days. The difficulty comes when you think you failed because you couldn’t stick to ONE.  Make a few different lists for different mornings. Tack them to the fridge and decide each morning which kind of day it is. That’s it. 

I am thinking that I’ll just sit at my desk at home and compile all of what I have into one document and store it in a flash drive and then shred the rest. My daughter already knows where the flash drive is in case I die. Maybe there’s a chance that the act of “compiling” will make the inspiration come back.