Life and writer struggles

an update through a vulnerable 2-month draft.

Feb 21, 2025

I’ve struggled for two months to write my first piece back to you after a long hiatus! For those two months, I had been writing out fragmented thoughts in a Google Doc that I kept believing I’d flesh out into something more. But it took me until just a couple of days ago to realize that the amalgamation of the entire thing paints a very real picture of the ebbs and flows of a writer and human trying to figure out life.

So instead of continuing to fumble through trying to write the “perfect” piece, I’ll share the vulnerable ebbs and flows of emotions that lead us to present day.

December 20, 2024

A girl in a pink silk scarf and red sweatshirt looking taking a photo of herself in the mirror — Helloooooo

Hello. Aside from my turning two piece, it’s been a (looong) minute since I’ve talked to you!

New Years used to be one of my favorite times of the year, but ever since losing mom (and working a job with an irregular schedule), societal time frames for new weeks/months/years feel like they no longer apply to me.

I’m not sure how I feel about not having that type of structure in my life anymore.

Anyway, with the new year coming, I’ve realized I don’t have any goals I’m fiercely eager to pursue.

I know some of the things I want for my life:

human interaction
multiple income streams
a liveable wage
a newer car
more fulfilling creativity and self-expression
ways to help people
going to bed feeling satisfied

etc. etc….

HOW will I begin to logically get these things? I dunno!

“We plan, God laughs.”

I don’t think it’s meant for any of us to know exactly how we’ll get to our end goals, but we should have something we’re excited to pursue, right?

I dunno, maybe… We don’t always have to have that. At least that’s what I’m telling myself during this aimless time!

I think a season in life like this allows us to more fully embrace the journey toward our destination, even if we don’t know what the destination is.

So indefinitely, I’m letting myself take a gap year from goals and such. I’m allowing myself to shower right after work (instead of trying to pressure myself to find more work to do outside of my job until it’s “time” for my shower later in the evening).

I’m no longer letting the story of me not knowing what I wanna pursue as a goal mean I’m debilitatingly hopeless. Instead, I’ll do whatever I want to do. Live in the present moment.

Not let my mind anxiously race with all the ways the pretty stinkin’ great life I have could go awry, and how I’d support myself if it did.

That’s NOT what’s happening in my life right now, so why try to force myself to live my life like it is?

Who knows what I could discover during my “gap year” in 2025?

With that being said, I’ve still been feeling out what intention I can put behind each online space I use. And I think Substack feels best as a place to post pieces only when I feel like it and am proud of what I want to share with you. I already made this declaration earlier and have stuck with it, and I think this means any type of “series” goes away along with this. At least indefinitely.

I was reflecting on this over on my TikTok, but I think I’m jealous of people who have something they just can’t shut up about. So many people created outlets to yap about something they love, no matter how niche, and I don’t think I have that? I’d love to, though.

January 12, 2025

I sat down to fill out my planner in 2025, and all I could add to it was my work schedule.

And that’s devastating to me.

On January 11th, my computer finally updated to Windows 11, and I got approved for my very first credit card!

I’ll admit, seeing the acceptance page after being rejected two or three times for a credit card over the years was more exciting to me than being accepted in the one and only college I applied for.

It makes me feel like an adult.

Plus, I someday (hopefully soon) want to get my own car and apartment.

I’ve been reading Girls that Invest and just the introduction alone has left me feeling empowered.

I bought silver rings and thumb rings from Amazon and they make me feel put together.

Once I add some polish to my healing nails? I’ll be unstoppable.

I’ve been playing more of my gaming systems lately; my boyfriend let me borrow his copy of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and I’m actually eager to keep facing my immense fears of the monsters in it.

I’m trying to learn to face and sit in discomfort, especially now…

Because I’m powering through with writing a book of my own.

The one about mom and loss and memories and everything I learned deconstructing myself, and going on my own personal development journey when mom wouldn’t let me help her how I so badly wished I could.

The distance between who I used to be and the life I once lived is making everything about my past fade more and more. So now is the best time to go through the discomfort of reliving some things to be sure I get the most accurate recounts of the life I once lived, in order to help you as best I can in the way I initially intended with my book.

This book project is probably the only thing I have as any goal for 2025.

I did list some intentions though for this new year:

It’s been so hard lately to come back and write meaningfully here and I hate that.

I think there can be beauty in fragmented thoughts. I’m writing this current sentence at 11:58pm on January 11th and am a little upset that I had this urge to curate and create a true meaningful story for you, but couldn’t fully flesh it out because I was at work when the channeled feeling came.

I think I had an idea of what I wanted to write to you, too! Visuals I’d curate for the moment and everything.

And now it’s lost.

I wanted to make the “mundane” grandeur. But I’ve lost my snatch of it.

Well, it’s not coming back tonight; I have an 8am shift in the morning.

Goodnight for now.

January 20, 2025

I didn’t know how to return to you.

Writing something to publish here on Substack has been so hard.

Trying to live life in my self-proclaimed “gap year” without worrying about how everything will turn out for the better has been hard.

January 24, 2025

I want to curate my life for the new one I’m preparing for.

And I want to work on living presently WAY more. Embracing all the sweetness and blessings that are already right in front of me:

Great coworkers
Amazing customers
Exceptional managers
A car to get to work

There’s an emotion that arises in me from time to time as a writer. It rises like bread dough, and swells with a knowing that something big is about to be birthed. And it feels so so exceptionally right.

January 29, 2025

~~The introduction to this piece was written weeks ago; right now I’m writing to you from my bed with only a couple of days left in January.~~ There’s no conclusion wrapped up with a pretty bow for this piece; it’s the end of January and I feel more shame than ever before for feeling so aimless! (And for struggling so much to write even this causal piece; I dunno why everything feels so stuck in tar.)

February 3, 2025

There’s no conclusion to this piece I can wrap in a beautiful bow and present to you; the past few months have been messy and bleak.

I’ve been struggling with self-inflicted shame around my “lack” of productivity while being in an unbelievably blessed position:

Getting home from work most days by 3pm, and having two to three days off every week. All as a full-time employee.

But it’s the beginning of February now as I write this. And although not much has changed, it has enough to find words I believe are worth writing and reading.

I started writing this at the beginning of January, and it is now the beginning of February. The dense fog that’s coated my motivation for life has now been smeared, letting in a little light onto what’s truly in front of me. With that, I’m determined to send some words worth reading to you.

Even though I started 2025 with nothing to work toward (and feeling guilty for it), I did know two things:

I would treat 2025 as the gap year I never got to have.
I would make progress on the book I’m writing a priority.

On the last day of January and first day of February, I was able to add to that list:

Work on building discipline for momentum and more balance in my life.
Create integrity tasks (aka-promises to myself) to complete each day to build trust in myself to actually do things.
Practice embodying the person I desire to be by being her, and living as such as the start of identity work

February 4, 2025

I struggle to consume productively or inspirationally; I’ve put down numerous books at the bookstore and from the digital library app, Libby, because the world inside my mind begins to dull within a few sentences.

Just today (February 4th) I tried diving into some Substack posts in my inbox and was met with the same discouraging fate: read a few sentences, skim a few more, then give up.

I don’t want to accept that maybe this is just a season where I’m not meant to write or make sense of things or just have a life worth reflecting on or writing about.

Why am I making that a bad thing in my head?

February 5, 2025

I think I’ve been looking to deserve indulgence lately. I’m SO attracted to discipline. Working, focused on a project for a couple of hours so I can then say I deserve to play, to eat a piece of Ritters coconut chocolate, to game…

But maybe all of February I’m meant to throw it away.

When my boyfriend and I perused a local bookshop, every book I picked up dulled in my hands. I’d read a few sentences and feel the energy and interest drain from my body. Even of books I knowingly wanted to read!

My brain felt like a picky toddler, whacking away unwanted delights spooned to its face.

What do you want?!

I’d assume a panicked parent wouldn’t want their child to starve, but why all-of-a-sudden do they not want something they love?

Well maybe, it’s just a season.

It might not make the most logical sense (how often do small kids make sense?), but maybe it’s what’s needed.

Kids are little walking subconsciouses; they don’t have the layers of learned culture, society, and identity smeared onto them yet.

So maybe my toddler mind knows better than me, too.

Maybe it’s tugging at the hem of my skirt, leading me somewhere new. Even if only for a season.

February 7, 2025

Initially I felt like I was floating along these life changes like a useless dead leaf.

Following along for our big move into my dad’s new life that I was squatting in. A lonely roommate with no life.

Smearing someone else’s life I didn’t belong in because I was ready to create my own… but I didn’t have the tools to flee the nest that had grown more substantial without me.

I just feel like I’m intruding, and want my own space to decorate and to come home to exhale, not hold my breath wondering if I’m making the right steps and moves without stepping on toes within the house I preoccupy with others.

I want to live without having to be on. I got a delicious taste of that for one year after mom died, then things rapidly changed.

This is at no fault to anyone. These aren’t even bad things, just different.

And I’m ready to create changes of my own.

But I’m now learning how to not worry about how years of growth needed to live independently will be shoved to fit into a day’s window.

I’ve decided wholeheartedly to live in the present moment as if I’m at peace, because I’m truly starting to feel like I am.

February 12, 2025

It’s the middle of February now, and the path I’m walking is still pretty aimless. But one thing that’s changed is that it’s no longer terrifying.

When I first began working on this piece, I wrote:

"There’s no conclusion to this piece I can wrap up in a beautiful bow and present to you; the past few months have been messy and have felt somewhat bleak.
I’ve been struggling with self-inflicted shame around my “lack” of productivity while being in an unbelievably blessed position:
Getting home from work most days by 3pm, and having two to three days off every week. All as a full-time employee.
The reason this currently doesn’t feel like “enough” is because it isn’t. As least, not for the goal I have for my life of being financially independent. And I’ve been mentally searching for solutions like a child who misplaced their favorite toy in an unfamiliar place.”

I’m being less hard on myself now. I’m pressing my foot on the gas and getting this first awkward piece back out of the way, hoping that the action truly does create momentum.

February 14, 2025

I started writing this piece for you almost 2 months ago! My mind tossed and turned as words noisily jumbled about as if in a blender.

The result: mush. Just like my brain when I’d sit at the screen full of fragmented phrased in a Google Doc draft I wasn’t sure would ever see the light of day.

Then January came, and I was at a loss both with my writing and in my own life.

February 17, 2025

Now it’s mid February. After Valentine’s Day, but not the end of the month quite yet and I feel…

Hopeful. Articulate. Excited to actually write this piece in a fluid and easy manner!

What’s changed? Nothing much, really.

Sometimes we just need to take the pressure off ourselves to live and just, live.

Let the seasons change, our worlds collide, and emotions ebb and flow.

Aside from all of this, I think me revisiting Dr. Joe Dispenza’s work after it initially and truly changed my life and put me on the path toward proactive growth in 2016 has been a big proponent of this shift as well.

It led to a mindset shift around the sticky and messy feeling life as acquired for me lately.

“If you insist on thinking and feeling equal to the circumstances in your life, you will reaffirm that particular reality.” - Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself by Dr. Joe Dispenza pg. 40

I’ve felt like I’ve tried to have too much of a tight grip on life lately. I dunno why, but the first thing that came to mind a few weeks ago was a coiled snake. Trying to protect itself by tightening around itself.

Eventually, you’d want to feel safe enough to relax your muscles and unwind. So ~~reading~~ beginning to re-read and re-listen to some of Dr. Joe Dispenza’s teachings have begun to help me do just that.

I want to spend as much of my life as possible being an uncoiled snake.