Why are you here again, shouldn’t you have scheduled this for tomorrow?
Well, yes, a smart person would stretch their content out a bit but as must now be apparent to most of you, that’s not how this works. If summat needs saying then fuck it, that’s what happens. I’ve destroyed so much confidence and so many opportunities across decades because it was never said at the time. Not how this works any more. Never how things will be, going forward.
Oh yeah, this was important.
When this journey was begun, there was only one aim. Get out of the hole. Sure, there were lots of nebulous other things that would be great (become a successful writer, have friends, function properly like other human beings) but honestly, if truth be told, UP was the only command that mattered. Then, when the hole was not the restricting factor, other stuff mattered. Write better. Tell people what you are thinking with well-structured, thoughtful sentences. Get fit. Honestly, FIND SOME FRIENDS. Each time I tick off an objective from the list, it gets smaller.
Unfortunately, every new item on my list inevitably becomes harder to complete.
I filled in a survey this morning about Time and Writing: do I have enough time to do it, what prevents me from doing so and I found myself realising something monumentally significant: if anything matters enough for you to chase it and make it happen, you just find time to do it. You write on scraps of paper, you let the washing up slide for a day or two, it becomes one task, and one task only. Responsibility and belief have a fantastic, erotic tryst in your brain and the result is that nothing else matters except the words. Love, proper OMG THIS IS AWESOME DON’T EVER STOP Love ignores everything except the moment.
This is great, but when you know that your brain has the means and ability to destroy everything held dear, normally about ten minutes after that situation just became perfect, it is necessary to approach your dreams from differing angles, and accept that sometimes, perfect means lying on the floor, hugging your knees, just grateful the words came out at all. The two submissions I’ll be making approximately 24 hours after this is posted, represent possibly the biggest single difficult Thing To Do on my list, with a wobbly pencil line scored through it so many times, the page is split by graphite.
I can’t get proper help if I can’t adequately describe to people what the matter is. Now, I can. Slowly, almost too painfully slowly, the means to communicate what it is like when I shut down, when I can’t cope, is becoming possible to hand to total strangers. The irony of all this, of course, is that you have to learn someone else’s language well enough to be able to do that in the first place. There is talking, and telling, and finally there is a proper, accurate representation of WTAF BRAIN PLEASE HELP ME I’M TRAPPED.
Amazingly, of course, this was the UP that needed to happen before I stopped being whole in the first place.