I’ve been in kind of a rut lately. I wouldn’t say it’s been a full on depressive episode or anything but I’ve definitely not been feeling great about myself and where I am in life.
A huge part of me wants to scream at the depressive part of myself because I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I am. I’m financially comfortable (in a middle class way, not in the way the little old southern ladies of my youth used to use the phrase. When the little old ladies used it they meant they had more money than God, they’d like you to know it, but they believed talking about money was crass and only done by the lower classes, which was most everyone else. Bless their hearts.), I’ve got three great kids to complain about, I’ve got a wife I’m very much in love with who sometimes seems as if she’s also fond of me, I’ve got good friends, a roof over my head, food on my table, a part-time job that pays me to talk about fishing, and hell, I even sometimes get to go fishing. I’ve got a great life and I know it.
At least on some level I know it.
Yet here I am all bummed-out.
I think a large part of it is that I’m almost forty years old and still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.
You know what? That last sentence wasn’t honest.
I think almost all of it is that I’m almost forty years old, always wanted to be a writer, but “knew” from an early age that only the most talented, best educated, and hardest working individuals could ever be published. I never felt as if I fit in that particular demographic so I figured I might as well find something I could do that would pay the bills, dreams and job satisfaction be damned. Now, after reading many books, articles, and other published materials that are just really awful (if you’re a published writer and you’re reading this, first and foremost, Thanks! Second I’m not talking about you. You know who I’m talking about because you’ve read their stuff. We all have.) I realize the dream isn’t beyond my grasp but now I feel as if I’m too old and have too many responsibilities to take the time and put in the work to make it happen. I know that’s not true, but I’m talking about the way I feel about the situation, not the reality of it.
I am currently taking steps in my life – very small steps if I’m being honest – but steps to help this being a published author thing become an actuality, including, but not limited to, this blog. I believe, like I said in my first post last week, that this should at least give me an excuse to practice my writing and get used to writing for an audience. Hopefully taking these steps will get me out of my current funk even if I never get beyond the blogging stage.
And if not I could always shave my head, have a good old-fashioned breakdown, and start life again from rock bottom. But hopefully it won’t come to that.