I read The Bell Jar today.  Started it last night, really.  I enjoyed it, very much in the same way I enjoyed The Catcher in the Rye, though I think today’s book was more pertinent to me.  No real revelations, though.  I can seriously empathize with mentally ill people, and there are times when I wonder if that just means I’m sick, too.  So many conversations that I had with Lauren the week before he died, and me saying, “Me, too, I totally understand that!” and now I worry that there’s some hidden monster in me waiting to kill me.  Especially on days when I just don’t want to get out of bed, when life just seems a dreaded chore, I worry. What would I do if something overcame me?  Am I wired the same way?

Obviously, mental illness is on my mind, and the holidays, and so many other things.  The parts of The Bell Jar I sympathized the most with, though, were the feminist portions, and the life decisions parts.  Feeling paralyzed that one decision excludes all others is a very familiar conundrum to me.  Right now I’ve got to choose something for survival that might throw me off a track that I was enthusiastic about, that I thought my whole passion was behind.  Was it really?  Was it driven out so easily because it wasn’t my passion, or am I just going through what all the books really say?  Why don’t I believe that the books and the psychology apply to me?  What is the right decision to make for my family?  (What about the right decision for me?  And why do I think to add that when I’m reviewing the blog post 10 minutes after I originally published it?)

Tomorrow it’ll be different, after the kids get up and get out of bed I’ll concentrate on them, and doing the laundry, and all the other steps that need doing.  But now is the time I’m thinking and whirling in my mind and all I catch are shadows of what would have been if I weren’t such a dumbass and could figure it all out.  And I don’t know what to do and I’m sick of not knowing what to do and I’m tired of walking into the other room to discreetly cry a few tears and then pull my hair down to hide my face behind.

So maybe the book did do me some good, and was cathartic, since I’m a wreck right now.  I’m just going to revel in being free and having finished what I started.

In the midst of all of that, I just forgot all about the blog.  I was furious at myself when I realized, though.  I railed about how if someone else had asked me to promise to post every day, I’d have done it.  But since it was a promise to myself, I broke it. Didn’t do the novel, no, so I’m going to stick with blogging, and still I don’t even make that. I’ve no idea why I don’t treat myself with the respect I’d treat others, but this is just another example, and typical.  So close to being finished, and I blow it. Even now, looking at the clock, I wanted to just say “screw it” and go on, not blogging for the rest of the month.

I guess I’m pretty burnt out of blogging right now, if I tell the truth.  I’m also struggling with other issues, and wondering where the line between utterly stressed out and grieving and truly depressed lies.  Of course, if I decide I need more help, then I have to decide how to get it, what with the lack of income and all.  One day at a time.  I’m seriously sleeping too much. I suppose I should be proud of how well I have done, given the month, but all I saw was one more broken promise.

I’m aggravated at myself, but I am not allowing the typical “well, I blew it, let’s go the whole distance” tantrum that I’d normally throw to fully punish myself.  I’m working on that self-forgiveness thing.  It really isn’t that big a deal, if I look at it as if I’m another person.  When it’s me,”good enough” doesn’t seem to exist.  Right now tiny failures terrify me anyhow.  I need to work past that, because the only cure for that is inactivity, which is unacceptable.

I’ve got a pie in the oven, and am more than a little irritated at my ability to stretch deadlines to their ultimate load.  I also have a bed full of clothing.  I’m not quite sure where the procrastination set in, but I remember doing projects that were supposed to take weeks of work well into the wee hours of the morning ever since I was in 6th grade and had to write a project on Bolivia.  It’s been a struggle for me my whole life.  I sometimes wonder if I do it sometimes to add a challenge to otherwise uninspiring projects.  Who knows?  I certainly need to work on it, still, even at the old age of 33 and 11/12s.

And my husband just looked over at me and snickered before he cheered, “Go, Pea, Go!” Oh, that might be confusing.  I’m allegedly the sweet variety of pea, to clarify.

Goodnight all!  Gobble gobble.

The idea is that upon rising up, you write for a few minutes, which generally amounts to just a page or two, and just purge your mind. I did this faithfully for quite some time, even after I dropped the whole project. There were times that it did me immense good to just think things out. I also found myself dwelling on negativity and picking apart my motivations and the things that irritated me to pieces. I found myself thinking about writing them ahead of time, too, and that’s really what did me in. That was counter to the project, planning things in advance. It was supposed to be extemporaneous.

For the most part, my NaBloPoMo has been relatively off the cuff. I’ve not given myself much time to write, and I think that the blog feels much more natural to me as a result. I’m glad I did the project, even if I’m only a little over halfway there and just free writing tonight. I feel more like the blog is an extension of my thoughts, and less a project that has to have these grand goals and meaning. It’s comfortable now.

The whole point of this is to put excessive amounts of pressure on myself to set a goal, and finish it.  I know that some writers have published works from this project. Water for Elephants was a fun quick read, and ended up being a best-seller.  I didn’t intend to publish anything.  I just wanted to kick my butt into high gear and get cracking with the creativity.

I’ve not thrown in the towel completely yet.  The bad start has me wavering at this point, and I’m not figuring out how to get very far in just yet.  If I want to write the novel I want to read, I need to be in a much happier mind frame. If I want to write the novel I want to write, Steinbeck would be proud at the bleakness and negativity.  And I really don’t always want to be bleak, it’s just what comes out.  I’m having a hard time striking a balance, and a mood that will carry from one day to the next.  Now, if a whole novel of just sex counts, then I’m pretty sure I can write way more than my allotted 2000 words.  That always cheers me up considerably, and accounts for a lot of the trashed prose.  But, I did intend to have a loose plot in there somewhere, so that’s not really going to satisfy me.

I’m glad I haven’t faltered on writing here, yet. I always sit down, not sure what I’m going to write.  Something is constantly coming out, even if I’m not wild about the blog post.  I think maybe this part of the project is more useful than the frustration of dealing with a novel.  Just reading my daily post and seeing how my emotions are swinging like a pendulum is proving to be a useful gauge.  I can step back and see exactly how uneven I am.  It helps me to be kind to myself, and more realistic.  While I absolutely believe I will achieve the things I truly want, and set out to accomplish, I’m trying to remember that I don’t have to try to do everything at once.

Also, please do not talk to me or approach me in any way when I’m at the ATM.  I will not take it the right way, ever.

Unisom = Benadryl = Diphenhydramine HCl.  Why people are willing to pay different prices for the different packages is beyond me.  Also, Sudaphed PE?  Not pseudoephedrine.  I guess it’s fooling somebody, but not me.  I’ll continue to buy the stuff they make meth out of, thanks.  Because it works.  Not as well as other outlawed drugs that I should totally be allowed to take if I felt the risks outweighed the benefits.  But better than that stuff you try to pawn off as Sudafed.  That stuff actually makes me dizzy but does nothing for my sniffles.

And most importantly:  Remember, remember, the 5th of November.  It’s Guy Fawkes Day, which I remembered, then forgot, but Honu-Girl tweeted about it and made me smile.

Earlier this fall, Chris asked if I wanted to participate in NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month.  I have always scoffed at NaNoWriMo, because every year tens of thousands of people sign up to write stuff and just don’t.  Or they do, and flood publishers with crappy drafts of novels that mean that good novels don’t see the light of day.  Or any other number of cynical, jaded things that someone who once aspired to be a writer can think of to talk herself out of actually doing something.  So I almost laughed at him, but he was actually asking for moral support while he wrote this month.  I can’t laugh at that.  That boy has libraries of books inside him, waiting to be written.  He’s even got them all mapped out, if he’d just do it.

I, on the other hand, get hung up whenever I try to write anything big or fictional.  I get hung up on the whole story arc concept, and want to know what is happening ahead of time.  I get stressed out. I make characters I love and then don’t know what to do with them. I freeze.  Plus, today my neck decided that the old injury would flare up, and I spent a large part of the day in bed.  And why did they choose this month for these things anyway?!  Aaah.  I guess December would be slightly more challenging, but not by much. Plus, other excuses.  Lots of them.

So, when Heather blogged today about NaBloPoMo (National Blog Post Month) I immediately thought, Yay, compromise! The idea of nablopomo is based on NaNoWriMo, but isn’t really restricted to only November.  But I think I can commit to a blog post a day, though Thanksgiving week is kind of iffy, being at Granny’s and having company in from out of town.  May have to do a few in advance, or just write something very short and sweet for those days.  So in other ways, it’s even more of a commitment, because I’m not going to be given any slacker time.

The short of the story is that I’m tentatively committing to both.  After all, can’t you tell I’m bristling with self-confidence?  Might as well.

Blogging really doesn’t hold a lot of appeal for me right now, but I want to keep some semblance of a routine up for my own mental health.  The lesson that your thoughts and responses shape your life has really been reinforced to me, and I want to be back to healthy and happy.  It’s possible that I’ll talk about my brother later, or my grief, or something, but I don’t know. I have found that writing out some of the garbage helps, but right now it’s really hard. I just hope that anyone reading this would remember in the hardest times of life, someone out there does love you, and would probably give anything to help you through whatever it is.

In other news, while I was gone, my husband installed Ubuntu on my computer, and it’s giving me absolute fits.  Originally I wanted a dual-boot, but I had a very irritating issue with Vista and Windows Update that kept recurring, so I had already decided to wipe it and start fresh. Hopefully the switch will be worth it. Coming home to a brand new computer is good. Right now I feel overwhelmed, in part because my brain is just not liking that I am forcing it to focus. I keep finding all sorts of bugs everywhere I turn. I appreciate this, because I’ve already learned much more by having to troubleshoot than I expected.

While I like to plunge headlong into things, I’m finding that troubleshooting isn’t enough to help me understand.  Today I’m going back to the beginning.  I plan on reading the Ubuntu Pocket Guide. The forums are there for me, too.  I know there’s some Ubuntu vets out there, somewhere.  Anyone have any suggestions for reading material or other aids?

Day 2 was on nutrition, and today is on meditation. So, there’s not that much you’ve missed as far as actual moves, if you want to hop on in for the month of June. I’ve been a slacker over the month of May, so this is a great kickstart for me to get back to my goals of being flexible and strong.

I’m also working on my 100 pushups, but I’ve allowed myself to get sidetracked there, too. Next week will be the third first week. I’m trying to get my family involved, too, but if that doesn’t work, then I’ll have to admit it and move on for myself. I’m planning to pair this with the 200 squats and 200 situps programs that are on the page, too.  That will take care of my strength and endurance building for the next 6 weeks.  Thirdly, Sarah has pointed me towards Run University. I’m really inspired by the couch to 10k program, so I’m going to try it.  Again, schedule and family threatens to interfere, so I haven’t quite worked out how I’m going to work this in just yet.  I’m working on it.  Just writing this up should keep me a bit more honest with myself.

I’d love to hear what you’re currently doing, or your plans, or even thoughts about my plan.  For me, all of these goals are pretty ambitious. Am I balancing goals that will motivate me well with a plan that won’t overtax me?  I’m hoping so.  I’m excited, because I’ll tackle strength, flexibility, and cardiovascular health.  This is the first time I’ve really come up with a plan that addresses all of those with goals for each.  Also, each of the programs starts small, so I’ll be working my way up instead of crashing and burning the first week. I’m hoping that the yoga augments the others well, by providing my muscles with some protection and counter stretching to all of it, so that’s what I’m using as my catalyst to take care of myself.

Often issues come up that I consider discussing pertaining to my family, parenting, school systems, or religion.  Even though I want to hear other points of view, I am leery of exposing my children in any but the most broad terms. Recently, a local deleted most of her longstanding blog because online persona was directly affecting her children’s lives.  I didn’t read the offending post, but apparently she vented her spleen about something, expecting the anonymity of the ‘net to protect her children, and moved on.  Apparently some very loving and Christ-like Christians (ahem) somehow took it out on her children.

This was one of my worst apprehensions about starting up a blog.  Oftentimes I don’t feel I can be really open about certain issues, so I avoid them. When I want to talk about parenting, or being an at-home Mom trying to work out the particulars of going back to school and work while keeping her place in the family as the coordinator and manager, I always decide against talking on those things.  If I want to talk about my struggles with being surrounded by a fundamentalist Christian family that I feel is overwhelmingly intolerant at times, I cringe.  Certain topics are just taboo in my mind.  I don’t want to inflict any pain on my children because some close-minded people of any stripe decided to use me against my children.  I know that game, because I was introduced to it as a child.

I know I could deal with my family finding the site, but it’s the strangers who would judge me with only this blog to go on, and punish my children as a result.  I know that it’s very easy to “out” someone on the internet, and I’ve been fairly open about my real life identity.  My Facebook and Twitter accounts, which both have real pictures of me, are linked to this website. At times I wonder if I should cut all those little strings leading up to me, but I know that there will still be a trail, somewhere.

Seeing SJ’s blog go down for the sake of her children gives me pause.  While I understand completely why she packed away her writings for a later time, I do think it’s a shame.  More diversity, especially in such a homogenous community, incites conversation and understanding.  So, if I’m disappointed that SJ closed her blog down, I feel like I should not be a hypocrite and feel free to talk more openly about parenting and religion. On the other hand, is it possible to be open and honest without it biting me?