Post a Day

I haven’t been able to sit down and write lately. I’ve sat down and stare at my screen, the ‘Add New Post‘ screen glaring at me, taunting me. Making me feel inadequate for not being able to actually type anything out.
Instead I get frustrated and feel less than me, I used to have no problem typing out an entry a day. Sometimes, back in my Diaryland days, I was able to write multiple posts a day.What has changed? I still have things to write about, so what is my problem?

Part of it may be the loss of anonymity.  Sixteen years ago, when I was writing on Diaryland, nobody even knew about online journaling, certainly nobody I knew was reading what I wrote, not that anyone in my real life reads this, but there is always the chance that someone may actually stumble across this and read it.
Now, everybody and their dog or cat seems to have an online blog and I am awed by the skill in which people write. The days awkward stumbling along with improper grammar or bad spelling are gone, now there is a standard to be maintained by your writing and it’s a lot of pressure on me to do a better than good job. My confidence is lacking, as is my subject matter.

The thing I wrote most about when my kids were young were my children. The silly things that they did that made me smile, the things that they did that frustrated the crap out of me, and the things that they did that bewildered me because how the hell did that happen? Does it make sense to them to hide a small stuffed animal in the fridge? Did they do it on purpose or was it just convenient to put it down on the shelf while they got the juice out to pour a drink and forgot about it when they put the juice away? I’ll never know because by the time I found the thing in my fridge and it made me jump and cry out in surprise, they’d forgotten all about why they’d left it there and were just really amused that it scared Mom.

When they were younger it was easy to write about them because they were little creatures that were just forming and I loved sharing all the things that they were doing because they left me with a sense of awe and wonder on a regular basis. But now they are young adults, their own people and writing about them feels more like invading their privacy. They know that I write, they know I write about them from time to time, they don’t read what I write but I try to respect them as I want them to respect me. So, coming up with stuff to write about them now is much harder.
I could write about Dev, my youngest with Cerebral Palsy but he’s complicated. I’ve tried to dedicate posts to him but they end up getting bogged down with technical and medical information explaining the disability and how it affects day to day life, and he’s so much more than his cerebral palsy. He’s my one child that has the most legitimate reason to be miserable and moody, and so far he’s the happiest kid. He has his moments of screaming and complaining, but it’s mostly because he wants to do something and can’t express what it is, or tell us how we could assist him. Not because he’s dependent and needs us for everything. Teens tend to be mopey little whiners, but not him. He doesn’t spend his days feeling the bad/sad feels, instead he amuses himself and in turn makes us laugh along with him because his laughter is so contagious.

This Kid makes me laugh

This Kid makes me laugh

So, I’m going to be trying to write something everyday this month. Fingers crossed. Wish me luck. My hope is that this will re-boot my brain and I’ll become able to write more often. Just sit down and do it, stop being self conscious, stop being a procrastinator and just get it done. Don’t worry if it’s good, I mean lets be honest, I’m not going to be getting a pulitzer or an award for what I write. Most of the time only my 2 loyal readers will actually see what I write. So, stop with the excuses and just do it!


About katastrophes1

Kat is a 20 something girl stuck in a 40 something body. Mom to 3 kids, tormented and amused by 3 crazy dogs. Amateur photographer, self taught crochet junkie. Thinker of crazy thoughts. Where do they come from? Who knows where thoughts occur, they just happen!
This entry was posted in Ceilidh, Chris, Devlin, family, Kids, Post a Day, Sean and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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