which way?

the right pathI’m going to try to be short since I’m hella behind here. I owe my readers three blog posts by tomorrow.

I haven’t been around because I’ve been busy–thank goodness. Although, I wish I was busy in a way where I could fully support myself. I’m slowly, very slowly, gaining new clients. And I’m grateful. But I’m not sure if I like this.

I think I do, though. I hate that my posture is being jacked up from sitting in my bed all the time, but I love not dealing with the disdain of working with white women in the workplace. I hate that I’m still behind on my car payments, but I love not commuting for hours a day to and from work. I hate that this has become such a journey of solitude, but I love having more control over my day.

Maybe the title of this blog post and the picture have had their own conversation: question and answer. But I’m not really happy with the answer. Today, I wrote about some scary steroids, and then I applied to a few jobs, including an administrative assistant job. Yet my freelance work is increasing.

I really don’t want to waste my time, period. If I knew which path to go down, I would just commit to it and go full speed ahead. But I don’t know. At least now, it’s not scary anymore. Now it’s just annoying as I see my credit score go down further the longer I’m on this path of being and becoming a writer. And yes, I am divorcing my self-worth from my credit score–out of sheer sanity’s sake.

I still wonder what I’m doing, what I’m doing here in Florida. Should be elsewhere? I don’t have the energy to explore every last option, even in writing. As I approach month #7 of underemployment, now I know that this is a little more permanent than I thought. And no one will save me from this.

So, this is the path, the “I don’t know what I’m doing but I am pleasing my clients” path, the “this is what my MFA is going towards? really?” path, the “I feel like I’m wasting my talents and am so unseen” path, the “I guess it’s just the Universe and me” path.

The path, the path, the path, the path, the path.

There are a few people that I met at a writers’ conference a few years ago. All of them are getting national press for their work. One won a national award. Another has a movie option. It’s wild what’s happened after four years, and how divergent my path is.

And in my throat right now is bubbling, choking emotion: the pain, the sadness, the jealousy, the WTFness of what my life has become.

But I know these two things 1) Those folks have oodles of support that I don’t have access to (sure I have angels, etc., but clearly the Universe has other things in mind. 2) Knowing that most people couldn’t walk my path helps me to hold my head up when there’s that shame of unrecognition and failure pressing down on me.

So, that’s all there is. The path. My path.

I had my phone cut off for about 10 days and I tried to fundraise for it. Nothing happened. So it was off. The thick silver lining was that the telemarketers stopped for a while. But I had to just be OK with my phone being off, with no help, even after asking for it over and over. I deserved the help but didn’t get it that time, or the time I wanted it in.

So that’s my path, and it’s not some lack of abundance consciousness–because really, who likes living hand to mouth? NO ONE. No one consciously chooses poverty–or even subconsciously.

Anyway, this dispatch from the path is that it’s almost kind of boring, but then I get little surprises, like when I got my first bonus for my writing, all $1.70 of it. It meant something. There’s a little glimmer of recognition.

I have to keep going, even when I missing a writing opportunity this morning, while I was still blurry on sleep; even when I got rejected quite quickly for another technical writing job from the worst recruiter I’ve ever spoken to; even when my sleep has been disrupted because my brain can’t turn off; even when anxiety tries to choke me out into the next life.

I guess I’m saying I’m more comfortable here now, the quotidian plodding along. It may be like this for a few months longer, and I think I’ll be OK with it.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s survival. I just hope that someday soon, I can try out thriving.