I’ll be honest. I have a lot to say when I’m standing in the shower or driving in the car. Even, if you can imagine, while reading a Buzz Lightyear book to the little boys before bed–snuggled in between them, hunkered down on the bottom bunk, Ethan wedged into the space between the mattress and the wall, Max clutching his favorite blue blankie. My eyes see the words, my lips read the words, but I don’t hear the story. I hear my own thoughts. They tumble around and they are good. But the story ends and so with it my thoughts. I kiss the boys and close the door and even though it’s my time now, I’m filled with thoughts of must-do’s and have-to’s, contemplating how I’ll fill the quiet that is finally resting in my home.
When I open up this space and sit here to write, there is nothing. I begin draft after draft after draft. There are dozens. Not one of them seems to be something I ought to say. They are too much or too little. Too many details or truths, or not enough. It’s all been said before, I think. Reflections on motherhood, balance, presence. Reflections on happiness, suffering, identity. I have nothing new. I have, it seems, nothing worthy to put out there anymore. I am preoccupied with our finances, running a household, and decreasing my workload. I am preoccupied with the reflection of my body in store windows and, if I can stomach it, my own mirror. I am preoccupied with how to get it all done. But there is too much to do I can’t get it all done. In many ways this leaves me feeling empty, even when I am so, so full, too full. So full I am empty. How can this be?
Leaving the pages of this space blank leaves me feeling even emptier. I want so badly to write because for me it is connecting. And I need that. But I have nothing worthwhile to say anymore. I am drifting. Leaving and coming back to myself time and time again. Perhaps it is the time of year–new beginnings, new routines. Perhaps it is my shocking self-awareness that I am struggling more with the I Am Enough premise than I ever would have thought. I don’t know. I’m tired of thinking about it. But I’m more tired of wanting to write and not being able to. And of feeling lonely. I’m really f**king tired of that, too.
I’m about ready to delete this draft, too. It seems meaningless and inconsequential–something you’d write in a diary. This isn’t my diary. But I’ll force myself to hit publish. Who knows, maybe it will start the ball rolling again. Rolling forward, not in circles or around the house or through the yard. Forward.
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This is crazy because 1. I always love to come over here and read your thoughts but 2. I have been struggling with the exact same thing. I have all these ideas – in the shower, in the car, while making dinner…and then none of them seem right on the screen. None of them come out. I feel like it has all been said before and wonder why I would say it again. Wonder why anyone would want to read about my family…my struggles…my joys.
Maybe it is the time of year but I think it will come back. I am going to re-design a few things on the blog and hope it inspires me.
I hope that you start to feel less lonely and know that we all have these moments in blogging / writing where things feel quite lost.
Since I’m there too I’ll just wish us both luck!
But the thing is my dear, just by SAYING it, even if it has been said before you are making a difference. You are making a difference to people like me who need to hear it over and over again from others, who need to feel connected to others in the same, who need to know that others are struggling with the same crap. I read it all over the blogosphere (well okay, in my own little world) and yet I never get tired of it. It’s meaningful to me, it keeps me moving forward, I need CONSTANT reminders that there are others out there. So you have lots of important to say and good to offer here.
One thing… the only thing I can offer beyond my love and support (always!) is try not to think too hard about it. Just take a deep breath and let it flow. Don’t worry about whether it’s good or not, or whether it’s been written before. Who cares? It’s for you…it’s an opportunity to just get it out and feel a little lighter, if even for a moment.
Sometimes I feel like I’m going around in a merry-go round at my own place, I come back over and over to the same damn themes. But I do that because I have to. Life is never static, not everything can be a revelation to everyone. The important thing is what it is to you.
And you, my friend, are important. Important, and wonderful and worthwhile. Those preoccupations you speak of our heavy. Let them tumble out here. Lighten yoru load. And never forget how special you are.
XO
There’s a lot of constipation in the writing world going on. I’m feeling it too, and I’ve heard others say the same. But this is your space, and if you want to say, “Dammit, I’m constipated and it sucks!” I think you’ll have plenty who are thrilled to read it. And hopefully, help you feel a little less lonely…because my own blog has, at some very lonely times, assured me that I am NOT truly alone.
Remember, sometimes life (and blogging) is about a revelation–a flash of light from the sky. And sometimes, it’s about a dessicated carrot. xoxo
“Constipated” is the best word I’ve ever heard for this type of writer’s block. Kitch, you are a genius.
I’m so glad that you didn’t hit delete. I too was stuck in JUST a funk. Nothing I was doing was “enough.” I was stressed, anxious, irritable – I wasn’t getting “enough” work done (I work from home/freelance), I wasn’t getting “enough” stuff done around the house and I wasn’t spending “enough” time with the kids. I started wondering if I was suffering from delayed postpartum depression (my youngest is almost 7 months old and apparently you can get PPD up to 12 mos later), or what the hell was going on. I started keeping track of my symptoms and discovered that it was following my cycle. Needless to say, I’m considering changing birth control. I’m not even sure what helped either – I know talking to people helped me. I’m feeling better now that I’ve acknowledged that I was feeling so down. I started keeping mental track of things that I did well instead of things I didn’t accomplish. I started to just write every single thing down that I wanted to do and then tried to do just five things a day. It’s hard, hard, hard. I’m sorry you’re feeling down. Would it help to do something for yourself once a week (other than blogging? something else that would reawaken your spirit?)
You are enough, your kids love you, you will get through this. And you’re helping people (me!) by writing about this because it makes me feel so not alone.
My best thoughts come to me when I am out and about, with no way to jot them down. My posts come to me in full, delicious paragraphs. I can see them and feel them. But in the time between those moments and the ones at the keyboard, the lovely paragraphs simply evaporate.
What were insightful, well-developed thoughts become cliche, tired, and bland. Sigh.
I wish there was a way to capture that magic and call upon it when I’m ready for it.
Great post…I suspect that all too many of us can identify with you.
There is nothing new under the sun. And yet, even if the words don’t flow as you want them to they are yours and they say something no one else can. And I so enjoy your words.
I love you.
I get it.
The End.
“My eyes see the words, my lips read the words, but I don’t hear the story. I hear my own thoughts.”
Oh how that resonates with me. I struggle and try force myself back to be in the moment, to cherish the time. I have been suddenly recognizing that these little ones will not be so little and they will grow up and move on. I thought I’d feel almost a sense of relief, less work, less to do, but it isn’t happening that way.
I know , I hear you. I come here, and don’t comment, but I have to today. So that you know, I feel the same way.
Just swallowed up by it all, never being good enough, not happy where I am mentally.
I hear your words. Thank you for posting….just to know that you know how I feel, makes it a bit easier to just get started on my day.
This was so needed by me today. I can’t even tell you. I am blessed to have stopped here.
You are not alone. The trouble you have with your writing echoes mine. I feel like I have so much swirling in my head but everything that comes out is garbled. The self-doubt creeps in: who cares? this sucks. why am i even doing this?
But to that last question, I usually have an answer. One that often keeps me going. For my daughter. She is the reason I started writing. And she continues to be my fuel on days where I just can’t seem to find the words.
I hope you will find the inspiration you need to keep your words flowing. We are here. Waiting. Reading. Nodding. Knowing. Caring.
Right there with you, like so many others. Could it be a “dog days of summer” thing? Or is it just when you’ve been blogging long enough, you feel like you’ve said it all already?
I have the occasional good idea for a post, but never when I have time to write. When I do have time to write, I’m just too tired, and all I can manage is to be a couch potato (thank you, first trimester exhaustion). When I find the energy and start to write, nothing seems interesting or complete or worth publishing.
Ugh, here’s to hoping we find our mojo again soon.
I think there are times when we can’t write. And when a huge chunk of our identity is tied up in the process of writing (even more than the result?), we feel dreadful when we can’t get the words out. Or every damn time we try to, they seem dull. Insipid. Not worthy of the space they take up on the page.
Sometimes we can’t write because life is overwhelming. Sometimes because we’re so damn tired we’re lucky we can even speak a cohesive sentence. Sometimes, we have no fucking clue why we can’t write. It’s gone. And we’re scared to death “it” will never come back.
But Sarah, it does.
I write daily, or nearly. I have for 35 years – I know – longer than most of your readers have been alive. And there have been periods when it just disappeared. One period, a couple years ago, for abut 6 months. I was terrified. Nothing worked. And then, I tried an entirely other sort of writing. I set myself very finite (sometimes stupid) writing tasks. Instead of worrying about what I was doing, expecting it to be “good,” I was having fun playing a game with myself, expecting nothing.
Eventually, the words came back.
I don’t know what else to say. It sucks. What you’re going through sucks. As a weary mother. As a weary writer. As a weary everything. But you’re still there. The words will be back. Maybe they need a rest. Maybe you need a rest. And then, a writing game or two. (Happy to email a few ideas if you like. But not today. I’m too damn tired and had to push publish on my own damn post without editing. It’s called phone, and motherhood. You know how it goes.)
Hugs.
I heart your blog and you (and I am new to this space and hardly know you). No matter how much something is said, it can be said again, differently or even the same and it’s still connecting. I have vowed to carry a notebook with me to write down all those great thoughts as they come up……and I have yet to do it. I wake up at 4 a.m. with great deep thoughts and as much as I feel I should write them down, I sleep instead. We are mothers, worker, writers, wives, friends, sisters with all sorts of have to’s and should do’s. Give yourself a break and know that when you write, we are here to read. xo
p.s. dealing with finances? me too, and when i get it figured out, you’ll be one of the firsts to know and we can get that blog design rolling. I can’t wait!
Oh Sarah… I feel you.
Lots and lots.
(and that sounds creepy or weird, but you know exactly what I mean)
I’m in a bit of a stuck/funk/rut/blah-ness as well.
Feeling so much, but not having it come out. Or maybe I’m not ready for it to come out? I don’t know.
Sending lots of hugs your way.
forward…march. Sometimes, I just have to start marching – figuratively and, less often, physically. At least the former doesn’t look foolish. :)
Even if it’s been said before, it’s never been said by YOU. And that is worth a lot.
I understand. For the last couple of weeks, I feel as though I have been running on empty, not really knowing which direction I am going in, but moving regardless.
So many things to write about, but nothing comes. As you say, it is too much, not enough, too hard to see in print. Breathe in, breathe out. You have, you are. And that HAS to be enough.
Sending you hugs, and perhaps some inspiration. Or perhaps, what we REALLY need is to have some wine simultaneously, in different corners of our blogging world?
Hang in there…the words will come back to you and we’ll all be waiting to read them :)
I am so glad you clicked publish and let us steal a peek at your thoughts. I have been here, where you are, many times. It is so refreshing to see (and feel through your diary post) that I am not alone. YOU are not alone, either. Hugs.
Can we just get together for a drink(s)? Because I have been craving some face to face conversation lately more than writing or reading. I miss interacting and I think it was brought on by BlogHer where I met and loved Being With people instead of sitting here alone on my couch with my blazing hot laptop in my lap. I have so much to say. So much in my head and in my heart but no one around often enough to Say it too. I know you are all out there sweetly reading my words and leaving great comments but lately, I just want to Be With.
So that’s why my page is blank so many days. Because every time I sit to write, I feel sad that I don’t have anyone to say these words to in person. And it makes me lonely.
so, yeah, I hear you. And miss you. And am here – any time to See You.
xo
I was just sitting on my couch wondering what insightful things I had to say today. I was truly coming up empty handed. Thank you for not deleting this post. You stated something that has been said before and needs to be repeated often. We’re all there from time to time and it’s good to know we’re not alone.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for hitting “Publish”. I so needed to hear this. Going through the same things. It’s so reassuring to know we’re not alone…thank you my friend!
Most of my posts have felt like diary pages. I really dislike it because I want to get back into the groove of things, writing about things that really make me laugh or really make me ponder but I just can’t seem to say exactly what I want in the right way. I believe I sat and wrote 4 different posts Sunday night, saving each one under the drafts because they just weren’t working for me.
Finding yourself. When you do, can you pull me along?
The loneliness, I get that. Even when you are surround by kids, by other mom’s. Feeling isolated and alone. Or as if something is missing.
Or that you haven’t connected with your hubby in too long because life got in the way.
Yes, I get that.
Sigh. Totally get this. And glad to know I’m not the only one who reads a good two chapters of Magic Treehouse without tuning in to what the heck actually happened to Jack & Annie. (Surely this is a marketable talent somehow?) :-)
Hang in there. This is no doubt just a season (and hopefully a short one). You’ll be rolling forward again. Soon.
Thanks, Sarah, for hitting the PUBLISH button. I thought for a long time my lack of desire/ability to post over the summer was simply summer fever…laziness…indulgence. Now, I’m still kinda at a loss. I reread one of my favorite old post the other day and was like: “Wow. That is GOOD. How did I do that???” I don’t know what it is…it’s just not there lately. And I stress that I’m losing “my people”…my blog friends out there…b/c I never write and when I do, it’s just not that important anyways. I, too, am distracted, preoccupied…by the lack of money due to now 2 children in preschool, by the stomach that looks pregnant because of too many beers over summer, by the return to work and teaching 50+ kids….This comment feels, for me, like your post did for you, kinda pointless and diary-like……and perhaps I should’ve hit delete????
I’m sorry you feel this way. I always enjoy reading your posts, and it would be a shame for you to feel like the blog is an imposition, rather than an outlet. For many, it is an outlet, and hopefully you can find a way to make it that way for you. But if not? No one’s judging if you don’t post that often.
You’re a great woman, and all of your readers can tell! (I happen to be fortunate enough to have gotten to know you a bit, for which I am very grateful.)
I am glad you posted. As so many of the others have already said, this happens.
You talk about needing to write for the connection. Several years ago, before my boys were born and I was still teaching, I was talking about blogging with the art teacher across the hall from me. She is an amazing teacher and has amazing thoughts and ideas. I was struggling to explain why I blog. Finally I said, it makes the world less small. She then helped fill in the missing words to me. Most of the world is so big now. We don’t all live in small towns or small communities anymore. We don’t know every one in town (or at least most of us don’t). We don’t learn about our neighbors in the small town newspaper. Blogging and many of the other social networking sites have replaced those newspapers. They make our world smaller. They connect us.
Life is not always sunshine and daisies. It is filled with ups and downs and I think it is important to share all of it. You can keep the most personal things quiet of course. While the good times bring us close together I think it is the rough times that bring us even closer. We rally around each other with words of support and encouragement.
And that was this is. You are not alone.
I have been skimming again, trying to catch up on ALL the blog reading that I didn’t do over the summer and this caught my eye. My life is full of beautiful posts that never make it from my mind’s eye to paper/print/blog. And I don’t know why. Except for the busy living part, I have no excuses. Thanks for putting it so succinctly, yet again.