Missing A Piece of Myself

January 23, 2019

I almost missed my New Years Resolution. I said I'd blog every week.  I'm just a few days late. That doesn't count does it? 


It's seven in the morning here. Not early really, but considering I've slept maybe a couple of hours, it feels it. Since my husband got his diagnosis--I still have trouble saying that C word in connection with him--I haven't been sleeping well. 


My mind is a jumbled mess of sadness, worry and panic attacks that alternate depending on the time of day. It doesn't help that my mom has had some issues lately too.  Not to be depressing but so far 2019 has kind of sucked. LoL   


I know in my heart that this is what has caused my writer's block. It's hard to get the words out. Most days it's hard to act normal with people.  Last night a family friend came over for dinner. I totally cheated and ordered pizza.  His wife died a year ago and I always try to feed him real food, but this week Jordan's brain was just too damn tired to think of recipes.  I heard him and my hubby talking, as I retreated into my office to work, giving them time to man bond or whatever it is men do.  


He and Hubby began talking about his upcoming surgery and how this type (Still avoiding the C word sorry) is usually a precursor to others in the body and how my man was worried.  That's what knowing you have an enemy in your own body does. It spreads fear and helplessness like the plague. I hate that he's feeling that. I hate it more that he does his best to hide it from me and be the "man".   My husband is a throwback to a past generation, where the man is the caretaker of the family and busts his butt day in and day out to give that. There's not a problem in the house he can't fix, a situation he doesn't somehow take control of. His job is and always has been to take care of his girls.  Me, my daughter, and now his grand babies. 


He doesn't show emotion well. He rarely cries. He's so bottled up sometimes I feel the urge to shake him. After all, it can't be healthy to keep all that inside. There was a time in our life, where we weren't together and that was a big part of the issue.  We eventually made our way back together and he made a vow to me to be more open, to let me in on what he was thinking. 


To show emotion. 


He still has moments, but for the most part he's more than open when it is just the two of us. He's quiet in person and guarded. This last signing was one of the first where he felt a little more at ease and that didn't truly happen until an inopportune dinner with some friends.  He rarely looks at a computer for anything other than looking up mechanical or electrical diagrams up on the internet. That's who he is.  So, in a lot of ways, my career, my joy in writing, and the friends I've made are a big mystery to him. He's just now starting to realize things about it--and yes support me.  


The problem with being a throwback is you are used to 9 to 5 jobs where you go to work, come home unwind and repeat the next morning. Working from home is a mystery, especially when a large part of that job requires you to be on social media (and let's face it--I goof off on social media a lot lol). 


My point is though, that last night he showed emotion with a friend. Emotion that he's tried to hide from me and put on this face to show me it's all okay and he's fine. 


Worry. Fear. 


He showed his emotion and I found myself wishing I hadn't seen it. I don't want him to feel those. My strong, loving husband who has made it his job to take care of everyone else.... shouldn't feel fear. 


That's what kept me up last night. That's what wouldn't let me sleep. Usually, I find solace in writing. In spreading out a story of love that endures no matter what and always comes out happy--even if it takes a bit to get there.   This morning, that block is preventing me from getting lost in Ida Sue and Jansen. 


I want to pressure myself to push through. To continue my story so that I can see how Ida Sue finds herself (She hasn't yet. So far she's really different, Jansen seems to be the key to her being herself... who knew? Sidebar: I never know. I just write. The characters tell me their story in their own ways and in their own time.) 


But I can't put anymore pressure on myself. I can't force the words. I can't find my peace and solace creating a couple who will love and triumph, because that fear and panic inside of me won't allow it and to put it simply, that sucks. 


Not being able to write, for me, is like missing a piece of myself. A piece that is vital to my wellbeing and not having it, causes its own kind of panic. 


So this morning? I'm going to drink some hot chocolate in my rocking chair, watch the sun come up from my sunroom and try to still my mind.


I don't really have a purpose to this blog. Unless maybe it's to let you know that I'm incredibly weak at times and more than a little lost.  Still, eventually I will get this Valentines Novella out. I promise. I don't know how I will release it yet. I might do a preorder wide only and then yank it within a day or so and put it on Amazon in Kindle Unlimited. That's honestly what I'm leaning toward.  That way both my audiences can have a chance to get the love story of Ida Sue and Jansen and see how they began.    So, if you've managed to read all of this without cursing me or unfollowing me, or vowing to never read me again... here's the cover for Ida Sue and Jansen's Novella. It's close to half done and tho different than what I thought... I do love the story that's beginning to blossom.  I hope you do too. 




Until next time. 





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