I haven't been feeling so well the last few days. I've lost a great majority of my writing time. I've been feeling guilty over silly things. I've been staying up too late to then feel like a good caretaker for my daughter the following morning. I feel like a selfish SOB who doesn't spend enough quality time with my daughter when I would give anything--or so I say--to spend time with my other two children who I am virtually estranged from.
I want to be a better father, husband, writer, person. I want to be healthier--hence a significant diet change as of a couple days ago. All these things I want. I measure myself against such high ideals that I know I'll never attain them. If I could only relax...and be thankful for a few blessings in my life.
I do have them. I've been blessed to be able to stay at home and take care of my daughter.
I've been blessed with many good friends--especially in the past year. Friends have never come easy for me. I fit the standard loner mold. But I've been blessed to have married well the second time around to one who has shown me much of friendship. I am thankful today for the friend who invited me and my daughter to go play with her children at a small indoor park. It was nice to get out of the house, to talk with a friend, and to let my daughter play with her friends.
I am also thankful that I have a home, a family, money, food, clothing. So many are less fortunate and do not have the luxuries I do. I have been blessed with much and am thankful and acknowledge the source wherefrom all blessings flow.
As a writer I tend to feel it is my personal duty to suffer and to despair. But I wonder, does it really have to be that way? If I can create a character who chooses victory over hell's fury, then why can't I choose the same for myself?