Self-Doubt On a Sunday Night
This post was going to be called the death of a blog. It was going to be about how some bloggers just don’t have it in them to keep going. That is not a value judgment. It is not a comment about them personally, just a general remark about blogging.
Blogging can be tough. It is not always easy to find material to write about. If you have a narrow focus it is really challenging to consistently come up with posts. In some ways I have taken the easy road. Random thoughts- what the hell is that. It is just a cover I use to allow myself to write about anything.
Maybe I am being too hard on myself. That is usually how it goes. I am my own worst critic. You can’t beat me up because I do it better than any of you could possibly hope to. Perhaps with the exception of certain family members.
But even then I am the one who decides to let or not let things bother me. I am the one who stares at the guy in the mirror and wonders if he has really got what it takes. Some days I wonder how I do it.
It is not a new feeling. I am not really sure when it started. Maybe it was back in college or maybe it was earlier than that.
I live a lifetime inside my head. I think too much. Not about everything, but some things. Sometimes I get stuck in a rut. Sometimes I can’t help but look around and wonder why I didn’t do things differently. Why have I always chosen to take the hard way.
These feelings are not limited to me. I know that others have them. I know that I am not alone. Even though some days I feel like I live in my own world, a universe apart from others.
The pain and the frustration are universal. The anger, the shame and the hurt are shared by others.
Some people tell me that when things get tough I should think of my children. They say that if I think happy thoughts the bad things will go away. Maybe it works for them, but it is not so easy for me. I don’t get through the day because I am a father, a husband, a son, a brother or any of the labels some affix to me.
I get through the hard days because I don’t know how else to do it. I get through the hard days because I don’t know how to give up. I get through it because I live in my head. Because when things get really bad I find the dream. I find the dream and I live it, even if it is inside my head.
There is a soundtrack that goes with it. A score that resembles an action/drama/comedy. Sometimes the music is sad, sometimes it is upbeat. Sometimes it just is.
I feel frustrated. I work so very hard and what comes of it. I tell my children to remember to work hard, that nothing comes easy. I tell them to push and to pull. I remind them that luck is called luck because it is fickle. You don’t know if it is going to go your way so you have to make things work for you.
So I sit here and feel disgusted at the words I am typing. Trite cliches. Stupid comments that I want to erase from my screen.
I feel foolish, but better. The venting helps. The blog still serves its purpose and with that it is on to the next post.