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I decided to go on this writing journey primarily out of necessity. I was word vomiting everywhere on everyone who would listen. I was making my problems everyone else’s because I wasn’t feeling validated and I honestly didn’t recognize that I was doing it.

Once I cleaned the lenses of my glasses and give myself a good hard look, I committed myself to writing as a way to get out the many thoughts in my head. I figured maybe someone else out there was, and is, going through the same things I am going through and would be able to relate. In addition to trying to stick to a blog a day schedule, I got the itch to tell a story that had nothing to do with me. I can be self centered a lot of the time so in an attempt to become less involved with myself I started writing Coffee, (If you haven’t read it be sure to check it out, feedback is welcome), as a way to be concerned with someone else’s life. Even if it is through a fictional character.

I’m now to the point where if I don’t write I am grumpy, cantankerous, and a all around buzz kill to be around. I have a need to write now and I’m loving it.

But, here’s the problem.

Since I’ve begun to write and get lost in writing I have had less of a desire to interact with anyone outside of my created world. I am becoming so engulfed with searching for new writing prompts, looking at my life for inspiration on what to create next, building story lines for my characters etc. that I am getting seriously annoyed when the people I love and that love me want to talk to and spend time with me. I don’t know if I feel like this is a good thing or a bad thing. I’m not sure if I care if it’s either.

This morning while I was on my way to work, my mother was talking to me, but as I have been doing with most conversations, I was tuning her out. Adding the perfunctory appropriate grunt at lulls in the conversation. I wasn’t doing it on purpose or to be malicious it’s just something that happened.

I’ve also been noticing that it feels like my writing time is trying to be pried away from me. What started a few weeks ago as a few instances where I needed to put off writing for a day or two is now becoming steady requests for me to be present with family and friends. None of this is too much to ask for, but I still feel like I’m being ripped away from a life raft I just found floating free from the sinking ship that is my life.

My work, life, writing, exercise balance is severely askew and I don’t know where to start to fix it. It’s like there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to devote to everything.

I started writing this entry to convey that I am feeling spread too thin by the thing that gives me the most joy. I don’t know if I’ve accomplished that or not but I do feel better getting these ramblings out of my head.

Until next time…

Don’t judge me, your don’t know my life!!!

 

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