Misadventures of a Misfit

“Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You’ll see purpose start to surface
No one else is dealing with your demons
Meaning maybe defeating them
Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend.”

I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to figure myself out. I know what I want. I know that if I can work myself hard enough, I can have it.

But it’s been a little easier said than done when your body decides to be twice as tired as it typically is, and hurting in nice fun new ways that make doing pretty much anything impossible. Plus, I got hooked on Marvel’s Jessica Jones on Netflix, and had to get the first season binge watched in less than a week.

 Next week I’m supposed to see my Rheumatologist and it’s stressing me out quite a bit more than I’d like. I’ve had so much happen, so much disease manifestation and progression, that I don’t want to go hear whatever she will say about it all.

Plus there have been loads of other stressful things going on, and all around I sort of feel like I’m unraveling.

But, I’m still going forward with the things I want. I’m still trying to learn new things so I can make new things. I’m trying to get my body to a point it isn’t having a meltdown. I’m trying to keep up with Wandering NerdGirl and make it into everything I wanted it to be.

Mainly, I’ve been needing to write, which comes easier to me on some days than others. I was a writing machine, cranking out posts and chapters and everything for a little while. Then BOOM – I slow waaaay down. I’m trying to get myself back into the swing of things, but it’s been a struggle. I used to, before sickness and stress and life drained me of everything, be able to write write write until the only thing slowing me down was hand cramps. I’d fill notebooks and print hundreds and hundreds of pages. I wrote during and between classes in High School, and when I’d get home from school. When I was in college, I wrote before classes and between them, and even tried to sneak in some writing during classes. I used to write on work lunch breaks. I spent summers at my desk, writing for hours on end.

But then stress took over. And from stress sprung illness, a mighty beast even for me to deal with.

I’m trying, though. I’m trying as hard as I can to find a way to get everything I want from life. I’m trying to get the words to come even when I can’t form a coherent thought because the brain fog is so heavy. I’m trying to give myself things that help put me back into my head correctly. It just takes time.

I finished a chapter of my current WIP the other day, and I’m hoping to finish a chapter or two this weekend if I can push myself enough. We will see.

~Angel