I wrote this yesterday:
I am crumbling, crumbling today. Three of my four walls are unsteady and I don’t have the strength to hold them up. Not by myself. If I am going to do this blog thing, then I suppose I have to be honest about all of it.
O. I already wrote about the pull I am feeling today, the pull towards O and the tension between him and everything else.
Work. It’s not working. The flex schedule and the experiment to be a part time lawyer, part time mom and part time writer is failing. I know I’m not great at math, but even I should have realized that is simply too many parts.
Writing. I am so discouraged today. I don’t really let myself think beyond now, beyond what I want to accomplish besides simply writing. Some days the path is so clear, it’s not even a question in my mind that it will happen. Most days I am not looking at the path, I am just looking down and trying to find my way. But some days, like today, I look up and the path isn’t so clear. It’s cloudy and foggy and seems so, so far. What I am most afraid of is that I will finally figure this mom/lawyer/writer thing out, will finally get the “free time” to write and I will find myself there. And I will suck. Completely and totally suck. That I will spin my wheels and never write anything good, much less great. Never get anything published. Never. Because it so so hard to do this thing and do it well. But it is much much harder to get published, to sell books.
And my fourth wall. Well that’s my husband. And thank God for him because he’s helping me hold all of this up. Thankfully, out of everything, he is the strong part. Because I can’t do this without him. Don’t want to do this without him. Thankfully he’s strong enough to hold us both up today.
In the light of today, I wrote this:
Tried to be supportive, even as I cried on my bathroom floor last night, even as he looked at me in that bewildered way that men look at crying women, when our tears seem to be completely out of proportion with what we say is wrong. Because all I complained about to him was work. The other stuff, the real stuff that was making the work stuff even harder, was too hard to say out loud. And he still supported me. Though he did keep offering me wine.
And I guess that’s the takeaway here. That thankfully I have one wall to lean on. That not all is crumbling at the same time. That just saying these words out loud makes things seem not so terribly bad.