I suppose anyone can write this post. I suppose someone else has already written this post. Today, I woke up sad, and it hasn’t changed much as the day has progressed.
I’m all alone in my office with repetitive, mind numbing work to do. Don’t get me wrong; I am VERY thankful for my job. But today, I feel like poo.
I wonder if, subconsciously, it’s because the anniversary of Ella’s passing is coming up soon. I hadn’t actually thought about it until I looked at the date on my computer. It’s been almost a year since all that heartache and drama dominated my life.
I randomly saw her birth mother on the way to see my therapist. It was jolting, just seeing her walk across the street. I don’t believe she saw me, thankfully. I haven’t spoke to her in months. I hope it stays that way.
I’ve avoided getting rid of the stuff I took with me from the apartment. Boxes and boxes of random things sit in a storage unit I pay $63 a month to keep. I want to sell or give it all away. But I keep putting off that hurt.
There are plenty of things to be happy about. Sunday is Mother’s Day. I bought my Mom a CD she requested, and I painted a ceramic box for her. I hope she likes it. Okay, I know she’ll love it just because I “made” it.
I finished my first screenplay this week. It needs work, as all fresh fiction does. Having gone through the process of these last few months (conceptualizing the idea, hammering out the plot points, writing out the actions and dialogue), I’m left with the dread that my work is a piece of crap. What if it is too cliche? What if the characters seem one-sided? What if no one cares about them? It feels like I no longer have control and that’s scary.
I am probably my own worst critic. No one has read the script yet. And it’s only my first. There are many more to come, so long as I don’t let my current negativity deflect my attention from the business of creating more stories and letting my ideas flourish.
Soon, I will bite the bullet and print out all 95 pages of my script. I will send it out to the world, first to friends with honest criticisms, and then to the people who could pay me lots of money or break my heart. Either way, staying in this state of creative limbo isn’t good.
Now that I have exorcised my emotions, I actually feel a lot better. Maybe this day won’t be so bad after all.
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