This time last year I decided to give NaNoWriMo a go and it was fun. But having been there, done that and got some kind of metaphorical t-shirt, I’m not revisiting it again. Needless to say I have hardly touched the novel since. It frightens me a bit; I am too nervous to take it seriously although I still want to finish it one day. Ah “one day”, my friend, so soothing to the procrastinating mind!
I started to write here more often as a result of NaNoWriMo and made some lovely blogging friends. Yes, hello you, thanks for staying around.
Then things turned busier at home and I had a break and since then I kind of lost the power of writing. It melted away like dew in the morn, and all I am left with is unsightly grass stains from kneeling on the ground looking for it. My mind just feels empty and echoey.
To be fair I’m not really doing anything more interesting. It’s not like I’ve dumped you all for the cool kids over there. My knitting is behind schedule. I stopped making soups and cakes and other deliciousness. I gave up yoga exercises recently due to the pain in my shoulder (operation very soon, only another couple of weeks!). I fall asleep when I try to meditate. I barely read any more, although I did manage “Raising Steam” because it’s the law and I don’t need more trouble with the authorities. Otherwise I’m just too tired and flat and drawn out to do anything.
I get this every now and then, usually as a pre-cursor to another bout of depression. It’s often this time of year, so please feel free to regale me with tales of SAD lights and daylight savings and so on. They may even be true, although at the same time I do love autumn/winter for those faded blue skies and frosted cobwebs and candlelit evenings, and ooh and ah, the fireworks. Always fireworks with the noise and the smell and the pretty, pretty prettiness, hands jammed in pockets and neck aching as you gaze up at the pictures in the sky, sometimes through mist or rain damp on your cheeks, sometimes through clouds of your own breath gasping out in astonishment and delight.
It’s been a busy year and I probably need to relax, but I suppose months of over-working won’t clear up in a weekend or two.
What I do remember from last November was the feeling of joy and energy from making myself write every day. I have learned more about the usefulness of a daily journal; I don’t do it routinely, but I know it is helpful when and if I do. It’s what I’m doing now, so apologies if you thought this was actually going anywhere except to hell in a handcart.
So, tell me my dears, what do you do when you get the blues? I mean these tiresome old blues which leave you feeling like the Dementors have sucked you dry and left you in the gutter.
Meanwhile I’m pinning my hopes on the Doctor to #savetheday this weekend. No matter how tired I am, I’ll find time for that.
Good night my dears and Namaste.