Write, Edit, Record, Produce!

 Every other Monday, I'm recording and publishing a podcast that's just a story that I'm writing.

I'm a book editor and I consider myself a good critic of books and stories in general, so it's with some authority that I say: it's not great!

But it's getting better, and it's getting easier, and that's what I'm aiming for!

Like many adults, I struggle with the idea of taking something creative and making it public. When it's in the world, it's out there, available for just anyone to look at! This must be something that creeps into our brains as adults, because half of the time when I ask my kids what they want to be when they grow up, they say they want to have Youtube channels! (We actually already have 2, each with one solitary video!)

So I'm not giving myself the chance to second-guess. I write, edit, record, and produce. Which racks my nerves to no small degree, but I know that if I were to say, "Well, let me just make sure it's perfect," then I would end up going in the same circle of editing something to death, and then moving onto another project because the current one isn't getting me anywhere.

And today is that every other Monday!

How will I look back on this podcast later on?

It might make me cringe in embarrassment! Or it might make me reminisce, think about how rough my stories were, like some grand artiste looking back at stick figures that they proudly stuck up onto the fridge.

No matter where this goes, the Internet is my fridge, and this story is my stick figure. Even if I'm the only one who ends up appreciating it, I'll be proud of my courage.

And hey, I'm getting pretty good at drawing these stick figures.

Oh. Well... keep it up.

The last five years, conditions in my head have only gotten worse.

Yesterday, I was in a really bad mood, but determined to have a good attitude.

I did well. I baked a cake in the shape of a bear with Echo, I took Daniel to play at Eli's house, I went on a walk with Crash, I went sledding with all three of them.

But I was so fed up at the end of it, because through it all, they were fighting, complaining, bickering, trying to get each other in trouble.

At bedtime, I told Crash to clean up pillows he'd left in the doorway, and he threw himself dramatically on his bed and wailed.

I went downstairs, muttering "fuck fuck fuck" under my breath, my heart pounding, my breath coming short and painfully.

I took THC, and it didn't help.

I sat and relaxed.

I slept for nine hours last night.

And I woke up today, tired, angry, and stressed.

And now I'm at it again. My kids are fighting, my kids are complaining at me for things I can't help with, and I'm already fed up with the day after an hour and a half of being awake.

I'm not doing well.

Sledding down the backyard hill!

Playing at Eli's house, sliding through frosted grass!

Baking a bear cake with Echo!

I read a comic yesterday, where a guy is talking to his brain.

"Hey little buddy, how are you coping?"

And the brain, with little cartoon eyes that look haunted replies, "Unsustainably."

And the guy just says, "Oh. Well... keep it up."

And I laughed at that comic so much, because truly, that's how I am. I'm coping, I'm doing my best, but things are only getting worse, getting harder to deal with. But what else can I do? Keep it up.