Lately, I've been feeling like giving up.
Not on life. I'm not suicidal or anything like that. A whole, whole lot of my existence is pretty freaking spectacular. My husband and kids and even my stinky-ass dog all rock my world. My house is small, my heart is big. Or you know, whatever.
But I'm tired. I'm tired of writing. I'm oh. so. tired. of being rejected. I'm tired of people calling me fat and calling me a cunt. It's like being attacked and there's nothing I can do about it.
There are other things as well. Anonymity, for one. Relationships are complicated. Blah, blah, blah. I've been down this path many times and it's never easy or fun. Lately, it's ramping up. And it's hard.
I don't like it.
I've been struggling with something from my past. Something I've never written about. I'm not yet sure I want to write about it. Not sure if there would be any benefit. I hate that too...that indecisiveness. I'm not prone to indecision. In fact, I try really hard not to over think anything. I think just enough and then I act. I have stuff to do. Important stuff, and not just things like talking to my sister on the phone and calculating Points values and trying to think of ways to make chicken exciting again.
Thus, I am bummed.
I got an email on Sunday night and I hope the author doesn't mind if I share a very small portion of it here:
And you inspire me to actually LIVE what I PREACH. What with the whole, "be your own kind of beautiful" thing and what-not.
And my God. MY. GOD. That is horrendously flattering. And wonderful. And...inspiring.
Because lately I'm not feeling it so much.
I really need to get it back.
So thanks, new reader. Maybe Steph will get her groove back.