At about thirty five minutes into this morning’s run, I began to cry. It wasn’t pain or upset, but relief. For a very long time I’ve been afraid of what might happen if I pushed too hard: I could hurt myself, or run out of breath in my lungs. I could fall off the treadmill: a 101 potentially disastrous situations run through my head, and my anxiety flares like a fire fed with sudden burst of oxygen. This morning, I locked it all away. The reasons why this shouldn’t happen have now been superseded by a need to prove it is possible. There cannot be any more excuses.
If you want this enough, why won’t you do it?
There are so many fears that rise and fall within me: am I being a good mother, a decent partner, do I do enough for others… but ultimately, I always end up ignoring what it is I want most of all. I’m beginning to realise that the whole Patreon thing might yet be a blessing in disguise because, for the last six months, I ended up doing stuff I began to hate. Writing was becoming a chore when I felt that people needed to see a definitive return for their investment. I made it a job when it should be so much more and now there is a chance to sit back and look long and hard at what it is I really want to do. For now, exercise allows means to build mental strength required for the next stage of this journey.
There are a ton of things I’d like to happen, but know I have to be careful not to be distracted from what matters. That means getting my novel finished, and then edited, and then trying to find someone interested in publishing it. After that I want to keep writing other stuff: short stories, poetry and blogging remain really important, but not at the expense of making myself unhappy. It needs to be on my terms, and that’s more important than anything else. How I make that happen is now in flux, until there’s a chance to decide on a solid, comfortable path. I also know that certain things will hurt and be tough on both body and mind. If it’s doable on a piece of exercise equipment, it will be achievable on screen.
The unexpected still has the power to derail me, as was the case yesterday, but this morning that setback was the inspiration to move forward. Instead of seeing bad things as irredeemable or obstacles, it is time to push through, over and then to look back and solve the problem. If I’m stopped then there’s the chance of not ever moving again, and this is a reality that will no longer be entertained. I don’t need inspirational speeches any more, the time for playing to the Gallery is over. This is for me now, and nobody else, and it is my soul at stake.
To be happy, I have to deal with what holds me back, and right now that is myself.