Today, is day two. I went to two events which had to do with writing. I went to a writing conference, which was billed as a writing workshop. I ended up only going to one session, missed for the most part the first one, which held no interest to me. The one which would have followed the one which I did attend, I went to the National Novel Writing Month get together instead. NANOWRI. It was interesting. I learned some pointers. I believe thinking about doing it at 3 pages per day is better for my psyche than 50,000 words for the entire month of November or 1,6666 per day. A bit overwhelming. Yet, I have never been put off by a challenge or something not done before. Met a lady at Tuesday Morning. Her name is Alice. Alice is 86 years old, from NYC, Brooklyn and so interesting. I could have talked to her all day as I mirrored her accent. Alice has the most beautiful snow colored hair I could ever imagine, let alone dare to have myself. She is here with her husband who is retire military and 100% disabled. Alice is a wonderful Elder Warrior Woman. I enjoyed our meet very much. A perfect conclusion as the sun was descending and so was my eyesight. My night blindness is rough beginning at sunset. I purchased a pair of ballerina house slippers. I found a book to help me with the genre I interested in writing. I did a timed writing which was meant to be my introduction to my novel. I did not like the timed writing or the beginning. I have to get some stuff set up. Planning on also beginning a walking program tomorrow, the first day of time being set back allowing for one hour of sleep. For me, it means it gets light earlier and the sun goes down earlier than before. We, Shaka and I will adjust. We are blessed, no matter what time of day or what we have to enjoy the best of it.
I am crawling at the moment.
I continue to try to make sense of this new world. New world which I no longer seem to fit, believe I belong or even feel a part of anymore. This new paradigm shift as I call it, no longer includes me. Was I asleep? Did I not see the pod which seems to have taken over others and yet not me? I feel vulnerable. I feel out of control. I feel a sense of helplessness. How can I have become an adult college grad, gone on to obtain an advanced degree and after only ten years no longer have all I earned? How does this make sense? I have attempted to numb myself with alcohol; prayed to not awaken the next day. Cried and suppressed rage so powerful and visceral it hurt me inside. Today, this morning, I woke up to loud noises outside my window. It was the sound of my apartment complex being fenced in. I continue to try to not let the screaming inside my head come outside. I don’t want to be a prisoner, I am already incarcerated by my condition, my emotions, my circumstances. Now, I am paying to be fenced in as if in prison. I talk myself through the inevitable reality daily, sounds abruptly remind me, I can do nothing but try to talk myself through the moments, disruption. Today, I got dressed and went for a walk. My second day of walking. One step at a time. I need to force myself to find something to concentrate upon, something to do. I want back my creativity, passion, purpose, optimism, idealism, my life. My vision is blurry because of having no medical insurance and diabetes Type II symptoms, high blood pressure and high cholesterol. I have to do something to see if I can combat what I can try to do for the rest of me. The walk felt good, it was not easy. It hurt a little, but I am remembering that “The longest journey begins with the first step.” I have taken my first steps….
Trying to make sense of being in my 50s and terminally unemployed. What do I do for the next seven years?? I have tried to figure out how to grow a dream, how to grow inspiration, how to grow hope, how to grow back my passion and creativity for living, helping others. Maybe, it starts here with my words!
Writing is a struggle against silence.
By Carlos Fuentes