Imposter No More
It's been a looooong time since I have posted anything here but the time has come for me to fight my deep feelings of inadequacy and start to write again. To write for me. I have a few posts that I wrote a couple years ago that I should polish up and move on from. I have some grief based ideas and feelings that I need to get out of my system and some serious bullet points about sobriety that I want to hammer out into some essays so I suppose there is no time like the present to get started.
This past week/month/year has been a bugger. From the time my stepdad Gary was diagnosed with stage 4 aggressive and rare bladder cancer we have just been hanging on. Losing Gary is likely a whole other blog (I shared some of it here) but I'm going to sort through some of that crap here too.
Cancer is total nonsense. It is a beast. It's almost as though I haven't been able to write about any of it because the English language is so limited it can't do justice to the actual horrendous nature of what it means to be human and to lose the people that matter to you and to watch them die in a way that is deeply unfair.
I have had the urge to write for a long time now but there have always been 1000 tasks more important, more urgent, more worthy than my sitting down to hash out some ideas but you know what? I am worthy of pursuing this task and I have to start somewhere right?
I promised myself that I would write something this weekend while Adam was in Nashville on a boys trip and the kids were at a sleepover with family so I could rest. I napped, read, watched TV, ate snacks, worked on the hot tub and didn't write. I just didn't have the energy to open up all the feelings because the new grief feelings are super scary and exhausting. It was work enough just to sit still and rest.
But tonight I knew I needed to do what I promised myself and crack the lid off whatever is inside me. So here it is; my start (restart), my beginning to rise after being smote down. My ode to whatever this urge inside me is. My beginning to find time for something that is mine. My climb towards 40 and the work towards accepting myself for who I am, impostor syndrome and all. So there, I wrote, check plus and now time for more rest before the new normal of tomorrow.
This past week/month/year has been a bugger. From the time my stepdad Gary was diagnosed with stage 4 aggressive and rare bladder cancer we have just been hanging on. Losing Gary is likely a whole other blog (I shared some of it here) but I'm going to sort through some of that crap here too.
Cancer is total nonsense. It is a beast. It's almost as though I haven't been able to write about any of it because the English language is so limited it can't do justice to the actual horrendous nature of what it means to be human and to lose the people that matter to you and to watch them die in a way that is deeply unfair.
I have had the urge to write for a long time now but there have always been 1000 tasks more important, more urgent, more worthy than my sitting down to hash out some ideas but you know what? I am worthy of pursuing this task and I have to start somewhere right?
I promised myself that I would write something this weekend while Adam was in Nashville on a boys trip and the kids were at a sleepover with family so I could rest. I napped, read, watched TV, ate snacks, worked on the hot tub and didn't write. I just didn't have the energy to open up all the feelings because the new grief feelings are super scary and exhausting. It was work enough just to sit still and rest.
But tonight I knew I needed to do what I promised myself and crack the lid off whatever is inside me. So here it is; my start (restart), my beginning to rise after being smote down. My ode to whatever this urge inside me is. My beginning to find time for something that is mine. My climb towards 40 and the work towards accepting myself for who I am, impostor syndrome and all. So there, I wrote, check plus and now time for more rest before the new normal of tomorrow.
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