I Really Should Sleep, Dammit

As much as I’d like to write 2000 words between today and tomorrow, I just don’t think I’m going to make it. I still want to get as close as I possibly can and I’m thinking I will take my iPad into work tomorrow so I can use it at my lunch break to write. Sometimes I try to write during work when I’m on the desk, but we’ve been way too busy most of the time this week for me to do that. I’m a little nervous… actually, I’m a lot nervous about the Summer Break stuff and all the Teen Events I’m going to be involved in. And I’m also feeling a little overwhelmed because I know I’m going to be exhausted by the end of it all. I’m a little worried about what that’s going to mean for my writing time and energy.

 

I have to wonder if that’s part of why my reading drive has been so high lately. My anxiety does tend to push me to escape from the sensation and the best way to do that has always been reading. More so than any other activity. Sure other things like watching TV or hanging out with my friends help, but nothing pulls me out of my own emotions like reading does. At least when I read the type of fluffy things I like to read. That probably is why I’ve been so invested in reading lately, come to think of it.

 

On the other hand, Anytime I’ve started a series by Charity Parkerson, I’ve had a damned hard time putting it down. And once I’m really invested in a series or character, it is hard for me to stop pouring myself into them. Even once I’ve finished, I often want to go back and start again.

 

I was talking recently with a coworker about growing up in a very restricted family where I was very sheltered. I talked about how I wasn’t allowed to watch much TV in general and then what I could watch when I could watch was heavily controlled and monitored. I didn’t really have much interest in outdoor activities. I wasn’t particularly coordinated so sports were usually painful and embarrassing to play. I didn’t like the outdoors because I was petrified of most bugs and again, I wasn’t coordinated and most outdoor activities are “Sports Like” so I wasn’t comfortable with them.

 

What I wasn’t much restricted on, was reading. Sure, until I was in middle school, I was told to choose from the children’s department but as much as I was obsessively watched for what I might see on TV or in a movie, no one was really paying that much attention to what I read. I did get the occasional, “when are you going to start reading real books?” comment from my mother who wanted me to read books that were less sci-fi and fantasy. She wasn’t a fan of the books that involved magic that I’d read. She did a lot of whining about Harry Potter. A LOT OF WHINING about Harry Potter, dear Lord, but I was never forbidden from reading a book. I imagine if I’d come home with a book that had boys making out on the cover like a lot of the books I read now, there would have been trouble, but even though I was reading a series called “Witch World” and my mom didn’t like that I was reading about magic and sorcery, I was never told I couldn’t read it.

 

And it made me think how that was the one thing I got to choose for myself. Sure, I still had to read the assigned books for school, but the one thing that gave me a sense of choice and personal freedom was reading.

 

The only sense of control, the only sense of personal identity and choice I ever got was from reading and getting to choose my own books. I think it probably affected me more deeply than I realized. I think I still very much feel that way. I get questioned and harassed about the TV I watch. My mother made me promise not to watch “Lucifer” (sorry, Mom) and even though I do still watch the show, I still feel like what I get to watch on TV largely isn’t my choice. Most of the time I have to watch TV I spend watching with her and she can’t stand anything where characters/people are explicitly gay/queer/trans, or there’s a lot of ghosts or portrayal of the dead being alive, or there’s a lot of terrorist plots, or there are a lot of serial killer type murders, or where there’s magic, or blah blah blah blah. There are so few shows I actually love that she’ll even roemotely tolerate and it’s just frustrating.

 

Anyway, I need to sleep, I’m exhausted.

The Struggle is Real, but It's Also, My Fault

I worked the late shift tonight, and I honestly should’ve gone to bed as soon as I walked through the door, but I’m pretty terrible about going to bed. Last night was one of the worst. I got about two hours before I went to the gym and about an hour and a half after. I’m so tired which I think is part of why my decision-making skills have been so shitty tonight. I can’t actually decide to do anything.

 

I only need about 750 more words to make my goal for the month, but I think I’m going to let myself off the hook for that. As close as I am to the goal, I know maybe I should push for it, but at the same time, I just don’t feel like it. Plus, I’ve made it over my goals enough the last few months to give me a bit of a buffer. It means I’ll need to be doubly sure of meeting my goals in the future, but I had four months in a row of making my goals so if I can keep that trend I’ll be in good shape for the year. The goal was, after all, to average 600 words a day not necessarily write 600 words a day.

 

And I’m really, just so freaking tired tonight.