Back in the Saddle Again

Back in the saddle…again.

So all my blog followers know, I fell off the horse (metaphorically speaking) and have to get back in the saddle. I was hit pretty hard in the writing gut, and I didn’t want to come back to the writing world. But as all of you know (that are writers) you can’t just brush it off like lint on a sweater.

No, writing is in your blood whether your want it to be or not. It will pull and tug at you until you put SOMETHING, anything on paper/computer. It’s been calling me slowly back and my poetry is what I started with as you can see with some of my recent posts of poems.

I’ve had ideas for blog posts swirling in my head like a mad twister crossing the farm. I want to take it slowly and that is why I’m starting with poetry. My poetry is closer to me than any fiction tale I could write. I figure if my beau can get published, just for the fun of it, I think I can intentionally try, right?

I tried taking the f2k class offered from WVU back in June, but my son needed an emergency procedure done, taking six weeks healing time and that cut me right out of the f2k session. I won’t apologize for putting my son first before writing, since no one else on this God’s green earth thinks of him, I most certainly do! Yes my writing is important to me, but always, my son comes first.

I figured with him getting back to school, his senior year I might add, I thought now would be a fine time to get back into writing. I started with, to me, some cheesy crappy poems, next up some blog posts, and then I’ll work on getting something published.

There ya go, I’ve set goals for myself and I think that is all-important to accomplishing things, whether it’s writing or cleaning the house. I’d like to get back to my other blog of the story of my life too. It hit too close to home and dredged up some bitter memories for me, so I halted it, feeling I was divulging too much. When you write too truthfully that it hurts, then it’s time to step back and take a break.

With fall and cooler weather headed my way, I won’t be relinquished to mowing, vacuuming and cleaning, days on end! I think I’ve got OCPD, (not to be confused with the repetitive actions of OCD) OCPD just means I have a Compulsive Personality disorder, among other things wrong with me. I love it clean and luckily my beau does too, so we’re both clean freaks!

While my house is ‘walk-in unexpectedly’ clean, I can now focus more on my writing. I’m sure y’all will benefit from it too. I’m also sure y’all have heard it before but remember, I was coming from a very hurt place and now I feel I’m more healed and ready than ever. I’m not doing it for comments, I’m doing it for ME!

Remember these words: “When you fall outta the saddle, get your butt back in the saddle, and ride like the wind!”

Back in the Saddle Again

Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you.

 ~Marsha Norman

Well here I am nearing my 1,000th post. As many of you know, I took a little break from writing, but lo and behold, the writing bug is still in me and here I am, back in the saddle again.

I’ve had a few post here and there to keep my blog alive, but my writing came to a complete standstill and thinking I never wanted to write again due to upheavals, I’ve realized NO ONE can make me stop writing but me! People can sling mud, disassociate with me, toss me overboard, but writing is within me, not just an outer shell that people can peel away from me, in hopes of destroying my dream.

My dream is still alive and kicking; it just needed a rest. My muse needed to take a step back, drink in all that has happened over the many months of intimate soul searching, healing and growth. And healing and growing is what I’ve done. By the grace of God, my beau has gotten his sight back after being blind for two and a half years; my dental issues have been resolved, and my back issues are still on the mend, but all in all, HEALING is going around.

I didn’t do it alone, mind you. I have a church family that came through amazingly; I had a few internet friends that heard my cries, actually sympathized with me, and reached out to me. Without that cluster of people, whether it was monetary, or prayers, I would not be right here today writing to you telling you of my healing. I would still be in intense pain, and no healing would have taken place. Each one of you knows who you are. You have my undying gratitude, love and appreciation. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Now with a new understanding of ‘friendship’, knowing who and who is not my friend, I can move forward in my writing. I’ve said it before, and I’ll shout it out to all of you again; writing is within! When I hear people whine (yes, I whined!) about giving up on writing, or that someone hurt someone so much that they wanted to give up writing, I have to chuckle a little. NO ONE can you hurt you so much, that you can give up writing.

From experience, I’ve learned people can hurt you! They can be downright mean and cause you to go into isolation, but giving up writing? If you are a REAL writer, nothing and no one can take that away from you. Want some sage advice from this whole experience? It is better to pray for those people who caused your pain, isolate yourself from THEM, but never, and I mean never turn your back on your writing!

I knew my writing was there waiting for me like a warm blanket on a cold night; just sitting on the back of the chair anxiously awaiting my hands to embrace it and to envelop me in warmth. So to you my friends I say; when you fall off the horse, you definitely cannot watch Bullseye ride off into the sunset, you need your hand firmly on the reigns, and get yourself back in the saddle again! And don’t forget your blanket, it gets cold out here in this world and it is your source of heat and passion! Wink

That which the dream shows is the shadow of such wisdom as exists in man, even if during his waking state he may know nothing about it.... We do not know it because we are fooling away our time with outward and perishing things, and are asleep in regard to that which is real within ourself.

~Paracelsus

Sight Unseen

Psalm 90:4 For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.

***

This is the emotions attached to the accident continued, if you all have been reading.

Steven wants me to get back in the saddle again, as much as I hate it, I have to agree, if I don’t get back, I’ll lose myself in the pit of depression, anxiety and fear. All things I’ve fought and overcome throughout my lifetime and here I am faced with it yet again, beckoning at my doorstep. I need time to heal but time is NOT being allotted me. I’m ‘supposed’ to just ‘get over it’, with all due respect.

We named the truck Destiny, the year she was purchased, many years ago in 2003 before Steven and I had met in person. I called her Destiny because it was that White Knight that was going to come and save me, although she was dark blue. She was going to whisk me away from the treacherous life I had been living and take me to a place warm and safe.

She made it across many states, to Maryland and then back to the land of Texas. Destiny made it to Nebraska for a wedding, back to Texas, up to Nebraska again for a funeral and back to Texas. A few more Nebraska trips and back to Texas. She’s run the gamut of successes. I always talk to her as if she is a living breathing entity and on the day of my accident I was telling her how sorry I was for wrecking her.

She gets pulled out of the ditch, and in her greatness, starts right up. That’s my Destiny. Now as I know she has to be fixed and overhauled, she’ll shine in her greatness and ride once again. What I’m wondering is, will I be in the drivers seat?

What I do know is that my destiny (future) is unknown just as the trucks. We’ll both heal and move on but will our paths continually collide? This we never know. I’m tired of the unknown. Hurt by the uncertainty. I will shine once again in my greatness and ride off once again. No white Knight this time, no warmth surrounding me, just my heart and soul.
My illusions have been shattered.

Can you tell I’ve sunken into the pit of depression? This is not me, just so you know. I’m the strong one who gets through these tough times with God gallantly carrying me on his shoulder. My Destiny is laid out, and the truck is just a truck.  To Steven, the truck is his baby. Men are different with their cars/trucks. I see the accident playing over and over and he sees how much this is going to cost him. Money we don’t have, money that will keep him from going to the doctors, money, money, money! As he loses faith, I am empowered by the very force that saved me.

I am a living breathing entity. This much I’m sure about.

You know, I realized something throughout all these years, I cost more than I’m worth. :(

Back to writing on Monday, hopefully.