Maybe all it took was starving myself.
I'd been in a funk for a while. Kind of a long slow descent. Not even a descent, really. Just ... BLAH.
I've been pushing myself in all sorts of ways, but the progress was slow and unsatisfying. Worse, I'd become something of an emotional liability to the family. Even in my best moods, I let a lot of the frustration seep through.
So, I basically starved myself. Why? To shake things up, I suppose. I don't know, felt like the thing to do.
Now all the crap's out of my system. I'm eating healthier, drinking less, and learning to let go of stuff. Toying with the idea of giving up one or more of my many jobs (when you're the main breadwinner in a house of seven, a damn terrifying thought) and pouring my energies into writing. Seriously, how much time do I really have?
As soon as I thought about that, I mean really considered where my focus might belong, it hit me. POW.
I saw the end of my story.
It's a long way off, and it'll be hell. But I know where things are going. At least I think I do. Anyway, it feels good. Like I can do it.
3 comments:
Yes, yes, yes. This is what we like to hear.
Warrrren... Warrrrrrren... Come over to the literary side...
Besides, you teach by example. You wanna show your kids a Dad who is croaking himself through stress and overwork or a Dad who enjoys life and pursues his dreams? I'm making a crass appeal to your sense of responsibility here.
Holy shit. Good for you, Warren. I can't wait to see you guys this week, and to hear more about this journey. (Now your FB status makes more sense, too.)
Dammit man! Eat some cornbread or something will ya! I'm worried 'bout ya!
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