Now what?

“Every time I get the inspiration
To go change things around
No one wants to help me look for places
Where new things might be found
Where can I turn when my fair weather friends cop out
What’s it all about”

The lyrics above are from a song called I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times. They’re from a song co-written by Brian Wilson and featured on the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds album. Another line from the song is front and center in my head today…”Sometimes I feel very sad (ain’t found the right thing I can put my heart and soul into)…”. I’ve talked about my experiences with depression and anxiety. I do so because I hope someone else will read what I’ve written and feel validated, or feel it’s ok to seek assistance.

My depression is very cyclical. There are periods of highs and lows which are mostly manageable. Right now I’m in the middle of a downswing that I’m finding difficult to smooth out. How is it possible for me to truly know this? It’s pretty simple. When I cannot summon interest to engage in my two favorite activities, I know times are tough.

Reading and swimming have been the two constant passions in my life. They are the activities I turn to when I must slow down and allow myself to relax. I know I project a laid-back attitude much of the time. On the inside, all of the pistons are firing and my mind is in constant action…thinking, fretting, analyzing, planning, etc. It.Never.Stops. It does slow down when I’m reading or swimming. That needed break is necessary for me to have.

“I keep lookin’ for a place to fit in…”. Do I ever relate to that. Except for when I was very young and we lived in Burlington, VT., I’ve never felt I fit in. If I became comfortable with one group, it wouldn’t be long before I was found lacking…not girly enough, too sporty, didn’t do arts and crafts or sew, didn’t play the right sports, etc. Add to the mix that I was very shy. I still am. People I know don’t believe it when I say it. I don’t lie.

Since I try to resolve (or smoothen out) my own issues so they don’t progress, it’s occurred to me that I may be having a downturn because my huge project of writing and publishing a book is done. One might think I should be ecstatic. Part of me is. Most of me feels a bit lost right now even though I have many things around the house that could be done. I have a ton of writing that’s unfinished (mysteries). My next goal was to publish a murder mystery.

And I just figured out what’s blocking me on that goal. Several years ago I pitched my work in progress to a handful of agents at a writer’s conference. Most were very pleasant and expressed mild interest. The final agent was challenging. And now I’m able to accept it was good for me though for years I allowed it to stifle my creativity. It was all due to one question. One lousy question.

“Why should I care about your main character?” I had no answer. I fumbled through my thoughts and tried to craft a sensible answer. It didn’t happen. Words came out of my mouth but they were not at all meaningful. She knew immediately I’d shut down. In a matter of fact tone, she explained that readers need to care about the protagonist and if I didn’t (as the author), why should they? I stuttered and stammered my way out of the situation, face scarlet with feelings of mortification and anger. I’m far too overly sensitive. Enough with that stopping me from what I want to do.

Writing can be a harsh and lonely passion. It can fill you with elation and then whip the rug right out from under you. My decision now is whether or not I start over. I have two unfinished drafts, each over 150 pages. I like parts of them. There is one new interesting idea in my head but I’m not sure it’s enough to be a complete work. It may be best as a short story. Short stories are not my niche. That’s not to say they couldn’t be. In the back of my mind a tiny, tiny voice chants, “memoir, memoir.” I’m ignoring the voice currently.

“ain’t found the right thing to put my heart and soul into…”. I’ve been casting around for years. Yes, I have ideas for dream projects but they will remain dreams because they’re financially unattainable. But I have pen and paper and I do have a dream that’s attainable. I’m going for it. Thanks to you all for letting me work it out.

A few words about the image I’m posting. It speaks to me in ways I’m not able to explain. It’s a photo taken by an individual who was a friend. This friend turned out not to be a true friend. So, while the image is hopeful and uplifting to me…it comes at a huge emotional price. I won’t apologize for still feeling the hurt but I will not let it overrule the joy. I will continue to search for something I can put my heart and soul into. I’ve long accepted I will never “fit in.” That’s ok, I like who I am.