I’m still here
by Christy Sillman
Someone recently asked me “Do you still write for iPinion?” This was the moment I knew my writer’s block was a problem.
The funny thing is I don’t have “writer’s block” in the traditional way; I have more of a “time-block” issue on my hands. You see, I write columns all the time. Life provides me the material and suddenly I have a few lines written in my head. It happens all the time – while I’m doing the dishes, driving to work, or even in the shower. This never occurred before iPinion. These people did this to me.
In the past I stole moments while my infant son slept on me to jot sentences down in my Blackberry, or I utilized one of 2 or 3 daily nap-times to revisit a thought I had earlier that morning. More recently I had to schedule writing time – an evening void of my television friends, or nap-time at the end of a long week off from work (after all my chores were done earlier in the week).
In January I re-visited my cardiologist for a check-up. I had a slight feeling that my heart may not be in tip-top shape, but the news they gave floored me. I’m getting much worse, and if I don’t get a handle on it NOW I’ll end up in full blown heart failure before I know it. So along with heavier doses of medications they prescribed exercise, and lots of it. Thirty to sixty minutes of make-you-sweat cardio five to six times a week. It sounds almost do-able when I write it out, but it is a lot harder than you can imagine – especially when you’re upping medications that make you feel like you’re moving through cement.
So suddenly my already dwindling me-time had to be replaced with ME-time.
No more messing around. This is serious and my husband isn’t going to let me forget it – thank goodness.
We bought a stationary bike the evening of that cardiology appointment and it’s parked proudly next to my side of the bed and in front of the TV. I’m doing fairly well. I would honestly say I’m achieving a minimum of four to five workouts a week. Some weeks are better, some weeks are worse. I’ve made two increases in my meds and I’m half-way to my final milligram destination – the side effects are so horrendous I’m taking baby steps up every six weeks.
So you see, my writing time is quickly vanishing, despite the build-up of writing material in my mind.
If only I could insert a keyboard in my head.
I did consider voice recording column material – that seemed like a very chic approach to “writing” – but my two year old son screams every time I start to talk into any electronic contraption.
Debra DeAngelo once warned me that one day I would write about not writing. The Goddess is right and I knew it when she said it way back then.
So here I sit, way past my bed time, taking advantage of insomnia to write something – anything — to let you readers know I still exist and I haven’t forgotten you.
It’s about two weeks into lent and my husband keeps asking me what I’m giving up. He of course went with soda, again. I attempted giving up FaceBook. That lasted like two hours tops, and I think I was napping for most of those two hours.
For lent, or permanently, I think I need to replace some TV friend and FaceBook time-suck with writing time. Because, it’s happening, the writing. I just need to make the time to pull it out of my head onto the computer and send it on to iPinion.
So, yes, I do still write for iPinion. See?