I know, I know. I’m a terrible blogger.
I just can’t seem to make it habitual. And the fact that I left things hanging with the first instalment of my bike riding attempt is definitely weighing on my conscience. I had hoped by adding a little pressure I could force myself to be more consistent – but no. Instead it’s just made me curl up and crumble and become victim to the part of my brain I’ve recently started referring to as the Chicken of Self-Sabotage.
“Oh, you want to make progress on that piece of writing? It’s going to take WAY too much effort – why even try? You know you’ll never be happy with it anyway. Blooock block block block!”
“Oh, you’ve offered to do something for someone? If you complete it you’ll set up the expectation that you’ll always be this available, thus setting them up for future disappointment; but if you don’t, it’ll be yet more proof that you’re flaky and unreliable! Let’s just freeze up until the time pressure destroys you. Blooock block block block!”
“Oh, the house is so messy that you can’t think straight? Cleaning it will be a mammoth task. Let’s just go out and spend all the money you don’t have to distract yourself instead. Blooock block block block!”
“Oh hey! After weeks of calorie counting and forcing yourself to be more active you’re finally back under 80kg for the first time in years! Let’s celebrate by drinking half a bottle of wine! Oh dear. You’ve gotten the munchies and devoured the rest of your chocolate biscuits too. Whelp! May as well just give up now. Eat this bag of chips! Blooock block block block!”
This voice has gotten quite loud recently, as I’ve kind of fallen off the mediocrity wagon and started getting lost in my own head again – daydreaming of future glory while conveniently ignoring the hard slog needed to get there. I weaned off my antidepressants a couple of months ago and although that’s mostly been great, an unfortunate side-effect is all the “unhelpful” internal monologues becoming more insistent.
Getting my brain back to its natural state has unleashed a flood of creative urges. An idea for a screenplay that’s been kicking around for a while suddenly coalesced and threatened to explode unless I started putting it on paper. So did a speculative fiction novel idea. And I’ve come up with two other blog ideas (which are totally laughable notions considering how poorly I maintain this one!).
I’m bursting at the seams with music ideas too: just listening to the hum of the fridge and the tick of the clock prompts my brain to start weaving a melody into it. I actually went to a music workshop with my sax a month ago where I jammed with an AWESOME group of people with an eclectic mix of instruments. It was so much fun. One of them has since tracked me down to see if I am available for regular gigs. YES! But also NO – that would need for me to: practise every day to maintain technique and stamina; rely more heavily on my in-laws for childcare; rely more heavily on family and friends for lifts everywhere OR get my driver’s license sorted ASAP.
And don’t even get me started on all my crafting urges…
It’s been hard not to get swept up in it all to the point where I fall in a heap and let the Chicken of Self-Sabotage peck me into submission. At the end of the day, though, I still need routine, patience, and self-discipline if I have any hope of achieving the barest minimum of these dreams.
You’re not quite there yet, Meg. Chillax, stick to the basics, and throw all that Chicken-feed to the other side of the barn. This will only work from the ground up.
You have the luxury of time and space. Keep making the most of it!
(Inspired by today’s Daily Prompt)