It feels like forever since I've felt like writing a blog, or anything else for that matter. Now that my dear friend is finally back to the point where she can do things for herself, I find myself strangely adrift with no purpose. The problem is after spending months focused on keeping someone alive, the importance of writing falls far short.
Everyone tells me I should take time for myself, especially now that she is doing better. Honestly, I have no idea how to do that. I've never enjoyed doing things by or for myself. I enjoy life through the reactions of those around me. My children are all in their forties with families of their own, and don't have the time to spend doing the things we used to do. None of my grandchildren like the same things I do, so when we're together, they spend time on their cell phones or play games I can't get into.
Somewhere along the path I lost confidence in my writing ability. I used to think I had some small amount of talent as a writer, but the lack of response to my stories tells me something else. My writing partners and critique group tell me I'm a pretty good writer, but they're my friends, what else would they say? Folks who I've never met tell me my stories aren't very good. Who do I believe?
Will I continue to write? Probably. At my age and current health, I can't do much else. Plus I'm from a generation that believed you should always finish what you've started. I'll find the desire somewhere to finish the two story lines I've started and try my best to make them interesting and enjoyable to read.
At least it looks like I'll have the critique group behind me for the foreseeable future. Our current leader wants to step down for personnel reasons, and it appears the group would like me to take over. I suppose I could fool myself into thinking they want me because they appreciate my knowledge of writing and ignore the truth that no one else wants the job.
Sorry for the dark tone of this blog, but spending yesterday in the ER with all the signs of a heart attack must have set me off. Fortunately, everything is fine except my potassium level had dropped dangerously low for some reason and my heart was letting me know it didn't like that.
Thanks for putting up with an old man's gripes, and hopefully the next blog will have a more positive outlook.
Pictured is my little one-eyed buddy who'd rather have me hold him than write.