1. I turned 40 yesterday. March 5, 2014. At 3:21 in the afternoon. That's sort of unusual, that afternoon baby thing, but so much is unusual about me, that it's just one thing in a long list. A long list like this one. But it's also a speck of nothingness in that I'm just like you, like everyone else.
2. We're all getting beat down by this winter. I'm no different. I have SAD, but I think even the biggest optimist and the biggest sweater-weather loving jerk realizes that yes, they've made a mistake. They were wrong to cheerfully usher in fall and shortsighted when they said "I LOVE winter." Yes, you fucked up good, didn't you? Yes, you did.
3. And so have I. I've got this blog, and I have had this other one for TEN years at the end of this month. I came here because I was jealous of all the great writers here and how "famous" they all were and I wanted in on some of the action. And I thought maybe, maybe I could get some of that here. Some recognition, some interest. And I thought maybe my niche would be my interest around mental illness advocacy and the fact that despite my ups and downs with manic-depression and various struggles with other not as really diagnosed issues (ADD, mild OCD, SAD, PTSD), I'm here, I'm functioning, I'm still drawing breath. I thought that I could convey some humor and some memoir and some of my general .... je ne sais quoi.
4. But, I don't know. I find myself floundering, not writing. Staying away for days, turning into weeks, turning into a month or two. Which brings out the shame spiral, furthered by watching the people who drew me here flourish and grow. Seeing them get book deals and TV interviews and turning prospects into profits. Repeating this inane mantra that "blogging works." I kind of want to punch them. Blogging works? What? No. Writing works. Working works. Promoting works. Having connections works. Not having depression works. It's not blogging -- there are TONS of people who blog. I wrote nearly EVERY FUCKING DAY for the larger part of TEN YEARS. It didn't do shit. I don't know what that even means.
5. What it does mean that is that I have to write. I can't sit around in resentment and be pissed about other people's good. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there is enough. Always. Forever. Someone else's success does NOT take anything away from me. It just doesn't. The abundance provided from the universe is infinite and overflowing, and yet -- for some reason, I think that there is never enough and if you are getting pie, there must be that much less pie for me to be able to eat. And that's so embarrassing to say. But I'm saying it. I'm saying it because I have to believe there are people who feel that way sometimes, too.
6. Did you catch on that this "listicle" is me just numbering the sentences or paragraphs or something? I don't know -- I could come up with 40 reasons, but I realized that I'm 40 now. I'm entering my 4th decade of life and I'm nowhere that I wanted to be. I don't remember who it was (I should, since I was so heartened by it), but someone just told me that someone famous was still living in their parents' or grandparents' basement at 40. And I know Georgia O'Keefe took a long time to get going and stuff, but honestly, I just feel so stuck. I want all these things and feel so paralyzed to do anything about them. I want to write and be known for writing and then ... I don't even write. Why? There are times when I have ideas and just even start a blog, and just don't feel like I can finish. Some of that might be ADHD, and I want to get treated but it can be such a sticky wicket for the recovering one. I have people whose example I can follow, but man, I'm sick of being so lost with that.
7. I need to write because I have this anonymous philanthrope who writes me and tells me how good I am and that I need to write and gives me prompts and encourages me ALL THE TIME. And I just don't even know why. I don't know what I did to deserve it, and I don't know why she keeps on despite my lack of enthusiasm and output. I truly am blessed.
8. I need to write because I have things to say. I have books and screenplays and SO MUCH STUFF IN MY HEAD, and I'm not even sure how to get it out, y'all. And I so want to be like Elizabeth Crane and I don't know how.
9. I need to write because I'm isolated. I've unintentionally isolated myself from people and I don't know how it really happened. I mean, I see people and I do things, but internally, I'm isolated. I am alone. And I need to change it. And writing has got to be a first step.
10. It's meterological Spring. That starts 3/1. But it's still "Winter In My Heart," really. (Oh, I had to get an Avett reference in there, somehow.)
11. I guess I shouldn't have said so many sentences without numbering them individually.
12. Or I shouldn't have promised 40 reasons.
13. I want to be heard.
14. I want to use the gift/s I've been given.
15. I want to write some books.
16. I want to have done something in my life.
17. I don't want my life to have been a waste.
18. I want this blog to be active.
19. I want ... DID I REALLY SAY 40 FUCKING REASONS?
20. See, but I tend to say I'm going to do things and not finish.
21. I wanted to take a picture a day this year, and couldn't pull that off.
22. I had an idea that I wanted to write a post a day for 40 days, but I have no faith I'll do it ---
23. Plus, maybe I'm being way too harsh and dickish, but I'm sort of the opinion that part of the sacrifice of Lent is NOT TELLING PEOPLE WHAT YOU'RE GIVING UP!
24. I'm probably a dick.
25. Can you believe that this weekend is Daylight Saving Time? Did you know it's not "savingS" time? Isn't that weird ---
26. Part of my problem with blog posts is that I want to grab links and stuff ... like for DST right then (I'm currently refraining) and then I fall down a Wiki-hole (I'm trademarking that) and I'm fucked and ADD grabs hold of my ankle and by the time I'm lost for 25 minutes, I either can't 1. remember where I was going or 2. don't have the mental energy to finish or 3. don't want to finish or 4. some thread has led me to Facebook (sometimes legitimately*) or 5. I want to do something else.
27. *I'll footnote that right away, since I'm doing some fucked up post -- 1. Sometimes, I legitimately need to go to Facebook. I need a photo from my profile or I need to specifically ask someone something -- but my brain tells me to do something else. A. Because I'm an addict and like instant gratification and want to check notifications and stuff and B. because I have untreated, rampant ADD. And I will end up on Facebook for a LONG ASS time before I will suddenly pull up and go !!!! OH! Wasn't I DOING something somewhere ELSE on the internet? Didn't I come to FACEBOOK for a REASON? Wasn't I going to (get a photo, ask someone a question, get an email, etc.)??? What just happened to the last hour of MY LIFE??!?? It's terrible. And
28. (Which is actually #2 of that footnote) Speaking of footnotes (this is the #2), I love Dave Eggers. I know some people have beef with him and whatnot, but I love people the mind maps and the footnotes (see also: Chuck Klosterman -- I have yet to read Infinite Jest, so I know, I know) and the references to the references to the references. Cause that IS MY MIND. It's an ADD clusterfuck, but if you can hang on for the ride and really walk through it with me, most times, I think you won't be disappointed. I mean, people take 10 bookmarks and notes and fucking rave on through 1,000 pages of DFW, right? People fucking revere that dude. So, that could ostensibly be me one day, right (hopefully, sans suicide)??
29. But sometimes, I don't know how to stop that, either. How to not fall down that hole -- it's like a Wiki-hole (TM), but weirder. How to keep track of the mind map. How to get you all to be able to walk back through the whole trail. Because as scatterbrained as I can be, I also have the weird-ass ability to be able to hold all eight balls of thought in the air and be able to walk back and pluck them all back out of the air. I can go back to a conversation we were having and resume it mid-word as if we never stopped talking. It's definitely unsettling to some people.
30. I don't know what I was thinking with 40 things.
31. I at least should start doing more video blogs. People seem to like those okay.
32. Is that cheating?
33. I'm struggling here.
34. I should just finish it, though.
35. We're so close.
36. Remember to turn your clocks back on Saturday night.
37. I always look forward to Daylight Saving, but it seems a wee bit early this year, don't you think?
38. Early light, late Easter.
39. Near the finish line.
40. I don't know. One thing for each year. I just want to write again. I want to get out of this fucking depression that barely looks like a depression but I know it is. I want to start to feel real again. So, there's that. 40 not real list-y things. Sorry if you're bummed. Welcome to Smarch, bitches. Welcome.
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