Monday, May 3, 2010

Feet Under Me

I got my feet under me again, after the blues this afternoon. I sorted out a writing problem that I'd been wrestling with (that always leaves me feeling frustrated and talentless), so that improved my mood immeasurably.

Kick-splash, kick-splash.

Suckage

I'm really bummed out right now. Sigh. Just a lot on my plate (and I'm juggling the plate upon which it's all on, to boot). It's weird, because I'm less stressed day-to-day than I was even a couple of years ago, but I've got far more to wrestle with now than I did, too. I think it's because I know where I want to be, and what I want to do, but it's just incredibly difficult to get there, and so I get daunted and broody sometimes. It's like walking up to the ocean and looking at that matchless mass of wavy blue and thinking "No problem; I'm gonna swim right across it." And I've swum out far enough that there's no shore in sight, and I can feel a charlie horse in my calves and I'm thinking "Oh, shit. Now what am I gonna do?" The ocean doesn't care if you drown in it or not.

Against the depth and breadth of that incredible apathy, it's hard to reckon with the smallness of your will, the paucity of your dreams. And then I think of my little boys in that stormy water, looking at me from their little raft that is our shared world, thinking that I'm Superman, knowing that there's nothing their Daddy can't do, and I don't want to let them down. My little guys. I want to make the best world I possibly can for them. I won't fail them. I may fail myself, but I won't fail them. My little guys. They're my whole life; they're my everything.

I'm tearing up as I type this, just thinking of them. I told B1 and B2 this morning that I was going to make it all right -- that I needed time to sort it all out, but that I would make it better.

Sigh. Deep breath, kick-splash, kick-splash, kick-splash.