Thinking Out Loud

Or in print, I guess.

I am starting my summer schedule for real today, which means that every day, I am committed to spending a half hour journaling, whether it be inspired by my own desire to express myself or some sort of writing prompt. Today, I am merely writing. This is an experiment. I do not know where it will begin or end, nor if it will make any sense, but that isn't the point. The point is to write. So I keep telling myself.

I can't really describe how I am feeling today. I am irritable, and I am sad. Because I am irritable, I snap at people. I say mean things. Or I don't say anything at all, when I am expected to. Then, I put myself in the position of the person I have snapped at, and I feel guilty. Or I start thinking that I am so irritable because I just want someone to be kind to me, someone to acknowledge me, to appreciate me, and then I begin to think that I don't deserve to have these things because I am so irritable with other people. These thoughts are not necessarily "correct" and they don't necessarily reflect reality. Most likely I am just hormonal. But my irritability and sadness feed off of themselves and off of each other until I am a total mess.

Reading self help books and inspirational readings doesn't help me when I'm like that, either, because I am also stubborn and good at arguing, even with myself. I can negate an affirmation in 2 seconds flat and give 50 reasons why it does not apply to me. Again, in my rational moments, I know this is nothing short of silly, and yet, I continue to do it.

I'm pretty good at analyzing myself, in my more sane moments, but the problem is that I haven't figured out how to do anything about it. I know that I DO rely on other people's opinions of me far too much, and I know that I underjudge people's appreciation for me at times, and I know that everyone else does these things too, but probably not as much as I do. I just don't know quite what to do about it. I find myself thinking, often, that if I just had one person I could count on for sure, one person who loved me, one person I could feel comfortable turning to when I'm having a bad day, someone who will not lie to me to make me feel better or coddle me, but who will touch my shoulder, comfort me, and then tell me to get over myself, I might be okay. But I know that having someone like that in my life is not something I have power over, and to wait for this is to give up the power I have over my own life. It would still be nice, though.

I know I need to take control, I just don't know how. And I'm not sure I trust myself enough.

OK, I've exhausted that topic and still have fifteen minutes to write. Today is not a day when I am inspired. It is merely a day when I am trying to be disciplined. On days when I am inspired, I can barely stop journaling when my half hour is up, even knowing that my next task is to continue to write. Today, my mind is jumping from topic to topic as I write (that's right, I am barely paying attention to what I am writing) and rejecting each in turn even as I write about nothing. I am feeling slightly more optimistic after having written what I've written, so I suppose that makes it worth it.

I actually cannot wait until my half hour is up, because I am at Arby's today. I come here to write for several reasons:

1) They have food, so I can have lunch. I do not and cannot eat at home.

2) They have wi-fi, so if I need to do some quick research as I am writing, I have the world at my fingertips.

3) They have a power outlet I can use, so that I am not limited to an hour and a half of computer time.

4) It is not my home, so I am not surrounded by chaos and the inclination to try to do something about the chaos and I can focus more fully on writing.

5) They have air conditioning, so on hot summer days, I can remain comfortable enough to concentrate.

Except, this last statement is a little misleading today. I am seated directly underneath an A/C vent, and being bathed in cool air. A little too cool. My nose is running, my fingertips are slightly numb, probably the beginning of frostbite, my eyes are dry from the constant breeze, and I am shivering a little.

That's why I can't wait until my half hour is up. When I stop journaling to transition into writing new material, I am going to take advantage of the break in my routine to go out to the car and get my jacket. It is COLD in here. Six more minutes.

I started off my routine today by reading 15 pages or so of On Writing, by Stephen King. I was ecstatic to see that my summer schedule is justified! In a chapter on what you need to do to go from being an okay writer to being a good writer (you apparently can never become a great writer unless you are genetically or spiritually predisposed to do so, which makes me REALLY hope that I am), Steve--I call him this because I have decided I am in love with him, and it seems silly to refer to the love of my life by his first and last name--said that if I needed someone to tell me it's okay to dedicate a lot of time to writing, he would be willing to do so. He even said I should spend four to six hours a day reading and writing! I have given myself 6 hours every day to read and write, so I'm right on target.

I know that last paragraph made me seem slightly psychotic, so I would like to reassure you that I do not, indeed, believe that I will marry Steve--er, Stephen King--and that I really have not entrusted him with my entire life as a writer. Discovering a new writer is, for me, like discovering a new lover. I have to get used to his idiosyncracies, discover what we have in common and what we disagree over, get to know him intimately. And while I am caught up in this process, I am a bit infatuated. Obsessed, even. Once I get through On Writing and maybe read a few more of his books, I will slowly get used to him and we will settle into a comfortable friendship, and then we will see if we have the potential for a lasting relationship or if it was just a fling.

Okay, time to go get my jacket, and I hope that tomorrow's writing experience is a little more organized!