Wednesday, June 30, 2010

My lost blog

In the past few months, I've been thinking a lot about my writing. It's something that has been part of my life not necessarily as a hobby, and not necessarily as a job, but something in between. I did a lot of writing in high school for things like the yearbook, and I certainly do a lot of writing for school. I've won a few minor poetry and literary contests, but the thought of doing more with it is daunting. Writing is a very difficult field to break into and it seems almost absurd to try, unless you are famous or have so much money that you can self-publish and be certain you can advertise for yourself.

And then I decided this; the last year has taught me nothing if not that I need to appreciate what I have. What I have right now is a lot of responsibility- the kind of responsibility that comes with being a mom, being a full-time student, being a home owner, and so on. What I have is a lot of residual frustration at the lack of energy I have after my health complications, and a lot of learning left to do about how to manage my diagnoses. (No, I didn't spell that wrong. I walked away from my fifteen or so trips to the hospital with confirmed tachycardia, vaso depressive syncope, and hypoglycemia. Whether those are all related or not, the doctors are still unsure, but I do know that I still experience the symptoms from all three to some degree.) What I have is a lot of uncertainty about how I am going to manage to finish school, do my student teaching (which, may I remind you, is essentially a non-paying full-time job), and have two children in two different schools. Braeden is going into first grade this year and I am looking for a preschool program for Tanner.

But the other thing that I have is the desire to fulfill some goals. One of which is to see if writing is meant to be a part of my future or not. When I have no more need for academic writing, will there still be a place in this world for my thoughts on paper? It's time for me to either put the effort into finding out, or put the idea to bed altogether. I'm not ready to pull the sheets over that one yet (no pun intended).

No comments: