Tense and Anxious

I haven't written a single word in weeks. Except for some porn. And it was only two porn stories.

I feel tense and anxious and unable to relax. I often feel that way when it's time to write or when I have a deadline hanging over my head like I do now, but the new wrinkle is that I feel tense and anxious even when I'm doing my escapist activities.

I am a serious procrastinator and as such have developed a number of activities that I lose myself in when I don't want to deal. For the last three days those activities have given me no relief and I feel like I'm going to implode.

I don't want to go through the details but basically I tried to connect with some other people involved in my escapist activities because I'm lonely (an ongoing issue) and thought it would be good for me to be friendly.

Of course, once you're interacting with people you know there is pressure to behave a certain way and basically what I've done is taint my escapist activities with expectations and pressure. It's internally imposed, I know, but it doesn't make it any less real.

So now my escapist activities are just one more area of pressure and stress in my life. Just another area where I will disappoint people. Yay.

Why Can't I Focus?

I have long struggled with my inability to focus. It's really bad in areas I actively dislike (i.e., the subject matter of my day job) but it's also a problem with things I love, like my writing.

I almost never finish projects (I've got literally 18 started right now), which is why it was such a big deal for me to finish my first novel. It was awful but finished! I almost never make deadlines - I've been working on a pilot for over two years. It's a great idea but I just can't seem to execute the concept.

So it is especially stupid that - during a week where I set a specific writing goal for myself - I also offered to edit someone else's essay. Now I've got that pressure hanging over my head. I hate editing my own work, let alone someone else's.

I was so excited to be feeling part of this online writing community that I acted impulsively. So now it is 1 AM and I am going to try to stay up and finish her essay tonight so that tomorrow it can be all about me.

Of course, I'm sure I'll find something else to distract me tomorrow.

A New Day Job

For the last 18 months I've been lucky enough to work part-time in the ____ field that is my day job. Money has been tight but we've had enough to get by and I've had time to write, take film classes, go to the gym and deal with some times when my son needed extra attention.

Today, however, I was offered a new better job in my field. I didn't apply for it, it just kind of fell into my lap. It's good money - more than twice what I'm making now - with good benefits, in a convenient location, with reasonable hours. There is really no way that I could turn it down. So I didn't.

Here's the weird thing. As many things as there are for me to be happy about (more money! benefits!) or worried about (less time to write, less time to get to the gym) the only thing I've really felt is some kind of weird excitement about being in an office building where I could meet a man.

What the fuck is that?

My professional future, my writing future, my finances, my health, are all about to be affected and I'm thinking about dating? Clearly I am very, very lonely.

Part of me wants to believe that this is some kind of sign that I'm going to finally meet someone but part of me thinks that a new company isn't the answer. Because I'm just the same fucked up person in a new place.

So I'm Writing... Porn

In the last two weeks I've completed exactly two short stories. Both porn. I've got deadlines coming up for real projects that I'm at various stages with but instead of working on any of them I'm writing porn. What the hell is that?

I posted them on this website I belong to where readers can leave feedback and since I've posted I watch, obsessively, for the comments. I am desperate for compliments apparently.

Now today I called in sick to work and I'd like to get some "real" writing done but I hear the porn calling me. Is some kind of writing better than no writing? Or is this just another example of what a procrastinating, failure I am.

I'm Back... Hopefully

It's been eighteen months since I've posted to this blog and almost as long since I've even thought about it. I've made some progress in that time with my writing, with my life, but I've also struggled with some huge family problems and my depression.

I was brought back today though by something very specific and very simple: A bad day. Not bad because of anything that happened but more because of what didn't, more because of what it means is still wrong with me.

I had a very small agenda today: finish a short story, go to the gym and go to a Writer's Workshop. I did NONE of those things. Instead of writing when I woke up this morning, as scheduled, I read fanfiction online. When it was time to go to the gym I read porn. And then, shortly before I was supposed to get ready for the Writer's Workshop, I started cooking and other bullshit.

Now I am here in my house, isolated and lonely, still feeling trapped by depression, procrastination and agoraphobia. I am desperate to meet new people, other writers, but even that desperation was not enough motivation for me today.

I suppose I'm here, posting to my long abandoned blog, because I feel the need to tell someone that I'm disappointed in myself. I am still not who I want to be. And now I'm a year and a half older.