Anxious Honesty

The voice in my head is telling me I’ve wasted two years on a dream that will never come true. I had a book idea and I ran with it. I didn’t fight hard enough for it though.

More and more, my husband seems to get mad that I’m not working on my book. That I’m not bringing in any money. That I’m just ‘lounging’ around the house.

It doesn’t matter that I clean the house top to bottom by myself. I weed the gardens and mow the lawn and whippersnip, by myself. I feed the cats and dogs day and night by myself. I do the laundry, by myself. I make the appointments for both of us. Keep a running list of things. Try to be the voice of reason more often than not. (I will admit he helps on occasion, but not near enough…)

I wish I was bringing in money. I wish I had fought harder for my book. It feels like the only choice is to abandon it entirely. It’s not what I want, but I always put everyone else ahead of me.

But then that leaves me with a blog and a twitter account that serve no real purpose anymore, right?

So, I’ve applied to part-time jobs in the mean time. I’ve started freelance transcribing again for Rev. I’ve created a Ko-Fi account in hopes of some additional help so that I can keep writing.

I want to keep writing, I really do, but this voice tells me there’s no point anymore. If I was really passionate about it, I’d be somewhere other than editing, right?

Anyways, that’s the end, (I think), of my self-pitying post. I had to say it before it ate me alive though I still think it might.

 

https://ko-fi.com/kemwriting is the link to donate to my creative path. I’m sure after a decent cry, I’ll be up to fighting again…

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