In an attempt to organize my life and find some inspiration, I’ve been slowly moving over all the post from every blog that I’ve ever had. I’m working through emptytraincars in 2009. That was an interesting year for me; lots of personal growth. I was with my first love who I had convinced myself was the love of my life. It was this time period that sent me to a dark place thinking that was the only love I’d ever find. From this assumption I ruined every relationship that I was in after that trying to compare where I was to the past. It took seven years for me to figure out that nothing compares to a first love and the more distance that you get from an event the easier it is to romanticize it by over thinking and creating memories that didn’t happen.
Seven years later I’m sitting in a coffee shop on the verge of committing the same deadly sin, but fighting tooth and nail to keep that from becoming a reality. I’ve warred with myself for so many years that it just comes as second nature to torture myself. I can’t go through this again; which is a fear I’ve had for a while. I sabotaged the possibility of something because of that fear. That isn’t true. I didn’t do that because of fear, I did that in spite of it. I’m having a hard time keeping my honesty pledge even here where the canvas is a blank screen and there is only the idea of an audience. It doesn’t matter if I’m honest with this page though. I can’t tell a lie to myself no matter how much easier it would be.
Eventually I’ll find the comfort of numbness, but it isn’t as easy to slip into as it used to be. I worked really hard to dig myself out of that, but that’s where I want to be again. It’s home inside the trees. It’s peace and understanding. One day. I need to move on before I trap myself in an impossible loop.
One of the two ideas that I am tossing around for NaNoWriMo involves the creation of an entirely new race of people broken into multiple sub-sections. I’m attempting to create a working timeline and family history for each group so that I can build the planet. It’s quite the undertaking for a one month project, but if I don’t start on it now I may never write it at all. On the other hand, Mindgames could use a rewrite. It’s a fictional non-fiction piece about the impacts of bipolar disorder on the creative mind. Decisions, decisions.
I’ve been writing or working on writing all day today. I’m going to be ready for November if it kills me and considering the amount of sleep I’ll probably get next month it just might. I’ve already sacrificed sleeping for the outline that I’m making no progress on.
Goodbye, sleep. Hello, novel.
If I select the first idea then I’m definitely going to have to break it out into a short story cycle at first. The deeper that I get into the idea the more confident I am that it isn’t going to be able to be contained in one novel and will instead span a series. I’ll never be sure if I don’t write it.
This break is over.