Back to Reality (Damn It)

This one is a little late, sorry. I was struggling a little bit last night, and ended up mindlessly scrolling when I should have been working. My apologies.

I have been back to real life after a whirlwind, and very lovely two weeks of rest - genuine rest. It was a struggle last week to return to the office; having to wake up to an alarm instead of my body telling me to, having to abandon creating for punching numbers into a programme, only having a few minutes in the day for my creative work (currently trying to finish with my nonsense for The Timbercreek Incident)... It's been more of an adjustment than I thought it would be. Afterall, it had only been two weeks.

Oh well. Such is life.

This week, I'm returning to my martial arts training, which will help my mood a lot. I have very much missed it, but I was having too hard a time adjusting last week and elected to sleep instead. Sometimes you just need to rest.

This past week has been a bit emotional. My mum went back to Toronto (and has since gotten on a plane to return to Australia), a project of mine looks like it's not going to schedule (more on that when I know more), which has made me quite sad and added to my frustrations. Publishing, man. It's quite the emotional rollercoaster. I'm behind in my writing - The Bear has been put on hold until I can get The Timbercreek Incident sorted, I haven't made any progress on the special edition of The Dying God... 

Once again, I feel like a hamster on a wheel running like hell and getting nowhere. It really does feel like I am working so hard and it's all for naught right now. Every step of progress I felt like I had been making over the past little while seems to have been thwarted and I'm back at square one. That's probably not the case. There might be things in the works that I can't see or don't know about.

But right now, it feels like I'm just hitting walls left, right and centre.

They say comparison is the thief of joy, which is very true. Still, I see the people around me living their creative lives and it chafes. Not because I want them to struggle, but because I see them succeeding at doing all the things I want to do, but have failed at. Of course, all we ever see is the success. I have no doubt in my mind that they struggled, that they failed - a lot. I imagine they also felt frustration, cried more than a few tears, and nearly given up as much as I have. But they still made it.

And I'm still down here. In the pit.

Poor me, right? I have a job, can afford food and shelter... boo hoo. I realise that I'm actually in a very, very privileged situation, which makes my frustrations quite silly in the broad scheme of it.

So, I get mad at myself for feeling this way when I really am quite lucky. And that helps nothing.

I know that as soon as I work through whatever the hell is happening with me at the moment, my stubborn butt will once again dig her heels in and work harder just out of spite. Logical me knows that in this business, I can't brute strength success. Will that stop me from trying? Nope.

For now, though, I'm wallowing in frustration and disappointment Don't worry. It won't last. I'll be back at it in no time.

I'll feel better after tonight, when I'm back from martial arts training. Maybe I'll even have a plan of action that will help me make it work.

I'll get there.

Slán go foill!