The past week has been a difficult one. I don't want to go into gory details, but I will assure you my marriage and health are okay. But what's happening in my life right now has affected me on numerous levels, and I have been sad a good part of the week.
Fellow writers and I talk about "life rolls." There are events, good or bad, that seriously impact one's life. Some life rolls are minor - a cold, or maybe you had a tiff with your spouse. Some are gigantic - a death in the family, a move, a change in employment.
My particular life roll isn't minor, but it's not gigantic. However, it's big enough to have an impact in almost every area in my life.
Including the writing.
For me, writing can be a refuge from bad stuff. Since the end of June, 2020, I've managed to write at least a few words every day up till now. At times it has been something to keep me sane in an insane world. Other times it was something I could fall back on, even when I was grieving or angry.
This time, the writing has been hard. This particular life roll has taken a lot of space in my brain, and crowded out the words.
I had to put down a project I'd been working on because I just couldn't get into it. I also need to finish my research for it, and I've struggled to do that as well.
Instead, I'm writing what I'm calling a "therapy story." The circumstances in the story aren't quite like what I'm going through, but there are similarities. I'm hoping getting some of the emotions out through my fingertips will help me process them better.
This life roll will eventually sort itself out. There will be a point I can move past the worst of it and get my focus back.
Until then, I will try to take it one day and one word at a time.
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