I'm Not A Writer

Day 2 of writing a post every day for Nov. and I figured I would just throw that out there.

I am not a writer, like, at all.  I'm creative in my own way, but it's all in my head and it doesn't really translate to paper (screen?).  It's mostly just images that flow through my boring psyche to keep me entertained during my boring day, and even those have been failing me lately.  I think I am literally at that point of exhaustion where it is taking what energy I managed to regain during the restless night just to keep myself functioning on a day to day basis and that's no fun at all.

The reason I bring the latter up is the fact that I miss me.  I miss who I used to be, before I was completely fed up and stressed out with my job, before I had anxiety problems that make me want to hide under my bed/table/desk, before I had trouble sleeping again, before I was too all of the above to really appreciate my family.  And don't get me wrong, I love my husband, and my little boy is my world, but there is so much stress in my life that I can never just sit there and enjoy what I have.  And I miss it.  All in all, I know this is temporary.  I have so many things happening right now and mixing them with the hormones of a pregnant woman who is terrified for this pregnancy and it's all just seeming a bit to much at the moment.

I'll take it one day at a time.  Goal for today?  Make it home with my baby safe and sound.