I don’t often write these blogs on a personal level, preferring to keep the vast majority of my personal life out of the social media spotlight. This week is an exception.
I’ve been a widow for a year…and a few days… and it still feels weird…surreal…unreal.
There’s a certain loss of identity that comes with this new title that isn’t sitting easy with me. Am I single? Am I still married? I know that legally I’m single but what about emotionally? Who am I now?
There have been a lot of hurdles to get over this year as I try to rebuild not just my own life but also a new dynamic to family life too. It’s an ongoing journey and there’s a long way to go still with certain aspects of it.
I have tried to take time out this year for myself. I’m not good at putting myself first. It really doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m also not very good at being patient with myself. I set far too high a level of expectation of myself but at least I’ve recognised that so that’s a small step forward.
On World Mental Health Day I attended a webinar through work about burnout and it proved to be a bit of a lightbulb moment for me. Burnout and I are not strangers to each other. I first burnt out in 2012. (I recognise that now, but it took a while to acknowledge this.) It was that experience that set me on my current creative path so there was something positive came out of it.
Last year left me burnt out for a second time. If I’m being honest, I actually burnt out towards the end of 2021 but had no option but to keep going. I can admit that now. I have tried to be gentle with myself this year…. or have I?
The session I attended on 10th October brought me up short. Had I been pushing myself too hard? When I asked a close friend that question, they replied “Probably have.” That too brought me up short.
One of the casualties of the way I have been feeling both physically and emotionally this year has been my writing. I don’t mean these short weekly blog posts. My current work-in-progress, my 9th book baby, is the innocent victim here. The words just haven’t been flowing. I’ve felt disconnected from it. I parked it a few months ago, started a new project but that felt all wrong too, so I went back to the original piece. I owe it to that story to finish telling it.
Another thing that session from earlier this month made me acknowledge is that fresh signs of burnout are appearing. I’ve spotted them but they need to be addressed and addressed soon before they spiral out of control. And address them I will. I promise.
Several followers of this blog and my creative journey have been asking when my next book will be out. They’ve been asking if there will be more books about Silver Lake and Jake Power. They’ve been asking if there is more to come from Riley.
I guess where I’m going here is yes, but all in good time.
I have Book Baby 9 partially written. It’s about a third to halfway there. I just need to be patient with myself a little longer and not try to force the words out onto the page. When you do that, they don’t necessarily land in the right order. I’ve been working on it for two years…that’s longer than I’ve spent writing any of its siblings.
I owe it to myself and to the tale to take my time and not force the issue. Creatively it needs to flow and for now that flow is a bit of a stop/start affair, a bit like everyday life.
One step at a time. One word at a time… and this widow will rediscover her creative mojo.
Coral McCallum 