ABOUT MY FEELINGS

What Happened To My Desire To Write?

Rambling about my feelings as it helps me to understand them better, and gives me clarity

It has happened to me before that I lost my desire to write.

No, that’s not how I should say it.

It’s not the desire that’s gone.

I still have stories in my head, and am thinking of plots for my fiction, or angles for my non-fictional pieces. I’m still thinking of when to post, where to post, what to post. I still want to write.

The thing is: I’m not in the mood to write.

Which brings me back to the beginning: this has happened before.

The past weeks, I have noticed that I’m more emotional than I have been for some time. The feelings are the same as I have several times a year, which mostly are around days which make me think of my mom: her birthday, my birthday, the day of her passing, the day of her funeral… you get the picture.

Only thing is, when these feelings started — somewhere in August — all of those ‘mom-days’ were already behind us.

Why have I been feeling like this then? What has brought it on? Why have I burst out in tears because of an especially frustrating exchange with a client? Am I heading for another burnout? But why? Why now? I mean, I have been seeing a coach exactly for that: to prevent a burnout from happening.

Other thoughts rushed through my mind… how my husband, after some especially stressful years, ended up with chronic hyperventilation… and how the same happened to my best friend. These things happen. When you are in a stressful period, you keep going, and then, when you get to calmer waters, you collapse.

Is this what’s happening to me?

I dismiss that thought as soon as it has formed in my head, as the stress is not behind us.

Not by far.

In fact, this coming week we get the results of yet another scan my husband has undergone last week. The doctors have still not given him a prognosis, and yes, the stress of this definitely weighs on me. As is the fact that my husband has little energy, is heading for the moment where he loses his job, and deep down I ‘fear’ his life will become one of reading the paper in the morning, and watching television the rest of the day while playing Candy Crush on his telephone in between.

Yes, this situation definitely is part of my stress, but there was something else.

I’ve had two occasions where I totally broke down.

I cried. I was angry. I cursed.

Shame overwhelmed me, but it also prompted me to think about my behaviour. Why were all those emotions overwhelming me at the most unexpected times?

I discussed it with my husband and then came up with an answer — an answer that made me cry.

I was heading for my last appointment with the coach. The realization hit me: I’m not ready to let go.

She has helped me so much over the past months. I’m stronger, capable of setting my boundaries, speaking up when necessary, and notice when I need self-care. I have all the tools to carry on this healing path, but still, I wasn’t ready to let go.

Ten days after that realization, I sat across from the coach for what would be my last appointment.

In tears, I told her about my thoughts, and she agreed, there’s more work to be done. The theme for the next five appointments will be: self protection.

But, here I was, a week after my appointment with her, turning around all those stories and articles in my head, and still not in the mood to write.

I sat staring at a white page, wondering which of those stories I should write, but that not-in-the-mood-feeling prevented me from writing one word.

So I turned to reading the words of others.

It was when I read the words of Dana Leigh Lyons another realization hit me: I should write about my feelings.

It has helped me in the past: getting my thoughts on paper; seeing the things I’m dealing with in writing.

Because yes, I’m still dealing with a lot… my husband’s illness, our changing life, having to always be in control, constantly checking up on my son, dealing with work and trying to find a balance in the things I do, while also taking moments to focus on myself.

It’s no small package, and acknowledging that to myself is good. It allows me to sit with it for a moment, to allow myself my ‘weak’ moments — those moments of crying and anger and swearing.

Writing about it helps me to find perspective. And it helps to remove a block — the one that causes the feeling of ‘I’m not in the mood to write’.

It has helped in the past, and it will help again.

If you have read this far, thank you for bearing with my ramblings!

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