Personal Journal

Sliding Backwards

This has been a bad week for me. In a bunch of little subtle ways. My chief triumph has consisted of making ends meet financially this week, which is good.
But it’s been this lingering sinus blockage that keeps me with a constant sore throat, and sore throats are a phenomenon that constantly agitates. I’ve snored a ton, aggravating it, and generally the sinuses are pushing me further to the brink of having a cold.
I’ve used that condition to justify over-comforting myself, I suspect (accuse). I’ve played too much computer games, drank too much soda, and taken too much vicodin.
Jean’s Mom was in town last weekend, which was great. And yesterday her friend (male) from Missouri came in, and that puts me on my guard. Damon is a decent man, truly. But I don’t like him. He’s just enough of what I wish I was, but am not, and he’s also just enough of what I do not like in a man, that I find myself simultaneously jealous and prejudiced against him. Isn’t that an odd person to find a guest in your home.
I know in my heart he’s a good man, and so I give him respect, and of course, since he is a good friend of Jean, I will give him every measure of Mexican hospitality that I’ve learned how to express. I do wish to spend little time with him, so I don’t deal with that conflict of self-loathing and arrogance that his presence brings up in me. And I can also spend time ALONE! Which of course, is heaven to my soul. I’ve already got a plan for skipping out on this evenings trip to the local English pub.
The self-loathing instilled by Damon’s visit is really reflective of my own consciousness that I’m not doing what I told myself I’d do. Maybe I should build on what few successes there are in these 10 days or so, but that’s hard for me given my temperament. I see the 100 places where I failed to seize an opportunity, and so, Im disappointed in myself yet again.
On the positive side, I’ve listened to a lot of music. I’ve kept up the house immaculately, mostly without Jean’s help (but with her recognition, which is nice). When I’ve chosen to have fun instead of work my craft, I’ve let myself enjoy it (until today). I’ve cooked some righteous meals for Jean and our guests (not counting the stuffing, heheh).
I haven’t written a damn word, and I’ve been overly critical of the things I have out there already (my standard is too high).
The process of writing, though, has broken down. Too many incidentals distracted me. I need to be able to sit down into a room alone and just write. I think I need to go back to pen and paper. That always worked for me in a great variety of situations. There are too many shiny buables to distract me when I have a keyboard and computer in front of me….
The pain is returning. The pain of knowing that I admire others for their dedication to continue their writing craft, and the shame of seeing that I am not dedicated. That pain got so bad before that I had to walk away from the dream, let it go because I wasn’t capable of living in that dichotomy. Time to figure out ways… no. Time to make ways to show myself that I’m dedicated.
I think I’ll buy some more notebooks on my way home today, something to sit downstairs in the family room and to write with.
Gotta tell you, though, can’t wait for Damon to leave.


It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn