My writing exercises are about more than just writing.
I love being in the position, at the keyboard. The conductor. I love the typing. I’m aware of the magic of function: mind, fingers and keys, allowing us to share our thoughts. It’s a hobby, a habit, therapy. It was always my diary. I still have a bunch of them, even though I’m not much of a saver.
I’ve written hundreds of letters to people that I never mailed. Writing to those with whom I had conflict helped me parse the emotions of the experience. Writing gave me a process and structure to understand myself. I’d record what happened and explain my position. Doing it helped me feel better. Writing has long been therapeutic for me.
When I write my little stories—I totally fucked up with the twin girls and their brother—I am not thinking about what’s going on with FND.
Right now, I’m what I’d describe as a low-energy phase. I don’t want to be out in the cold, I’d rather read by a fire with the pets and just go for walks. I’ve no mojo. Don’t want to write stories, don’t want to study, and don’t want to do yard work if it’s too cold. If I were a car, I’d be called ‘sluggish.’
Both regular readers will know that not long ago I had an experience with trusted friends who’ve always treated me with utmost kindness. They’ve invited me to join them on countless vacations together. We’ve been friends since 1974. It was like an emotional tornado. They attacked my understanding of myself and my condition. One thing I’m sure of: they felt I should reject all Dr. Shoja has told me about myself.
What they did shattered me. It really hurt me.
So, I think about it a lot, and the truth is, Dr. Shoja isn’t responsible for how I understand myself. In reflection, they are rejecting my understanding of myself. They helped me develop an ‘I don’t give a fuck about how you see me’ attitude. That makes me stronger.
I feel like a thirsty and tired man in the desert who knows that there’s a spring up ahead but he’s feeling like he’s not going to make it, as I wait for warm weather. I want to be out there, warm, making the backyard as tidy as I can. I have a new relationship with the lawns: I’m comfortable letting nature take its course.
I knew I’d be seeing Dan today at the big community dog walk, and that I’d be meeting his dog, Dakota. I’ve been looking forward to meeting Dakota. Last night, I heard from Dan that his sister, with whom I went to school, and Steve, his partner, plus another brother, Pete, would also be joining us.
We walked in the cold and rain. It was sleeting this morning at my house! But as we walked the rain stopped and now it is brighter but still overcast. I’ll be spending today by the fire with Louise.