NOTE: Sorry that this didn't post correctly on Tuesday. It was there but apparently my internet wasn't up to parr and I didn't realize it until today. I truly apologize for the screwup. And no, it's not because of what I write in the column though me and Pup Harry are alone until late Monday evening.
I
have been in a funk for a few weeks now. Bet you haven’t heard that word for a
while. Some people might think it means a type of music and it does. But it
also means slump or a depressed state of mind. I’ll take the latter and stick
with it.
It’s
been said that writers are a moody lot by and large. While I’ve seen some moody
writers in my time, and ones that are pure divas if you get my drift, but
overall I think that’s pushing it a bit. I rarely get depressed if you look at
my life as a whole. There have only been two times that I can recall that I was
so to the point of being debilitated in some way or another.
Once
was when I lost a business that I loved. We were basically victims of 9/11 and
bad employees. And frankly, I don’t know what depressed me more, the fact I’d
just lost $200K or that the business was down the tubes. That happened nearly 15 years ago and the
money has been repaid as well as recouped.
The
last one was more recently. It was the passing of my father last year in late
March. I took my time with coming to grips with his passing. Or so I thought.
As the yearly anniversary of his death rolled around, I found myself not only
in allergy hell but in the slide toward being depressed about it all over
again.
It’s
times like these I get my zen on. I start taking long reflective walks by
myself. I think about the overall scheme of life. I read and study and just try
to go with the flow in order to get past the moment. Losing someone important
in your life takes a lot out of you. You want to scream why at the heavens. You
want to pound your head against the wall or desk and figure out the meaning of
life. Everyone goes through these stages of grief and I’m no different.
This
time, however, I must do it alone. My DH is on travel and he’s spending the
week at our home in the States. Lucky him. There’s only me and Pup Harry and a
world full of memories that sometimes won’t let me go.
I’ve
gone back to having a list just to make sure I get things done. And there are
moments I feel that I’m just plodding along with no real goal or end in sight.
I plotted a new series and designed the covers and decided that the website
truly does need an overhaul. Yet, no matter what I’m doing, it just doesn’t
seem like it’s enough or I’m making headway. It makes no sense. Then neither
does death but it happens. The living must learn to deal, to keep moving
forward and try to keep it all together.
How
do you as a person or a writer deal with the difficult things, like death or
divorce or anything similar, in your life?
Again,
sorry that this is late…the allergies kept me in bed a huge portion of the
day…the rest is like moving through a haze with the meds. I apologize. The
picture is of me and my Dad when I was much, much younger.
Until
next week…
Lynn
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