Sometimes it is hard to post anything of interest. I am still in the doldrums really, and have managed no writing at all recently, so I am beginning to feel a rather dull person indeed. I also started the counselling thing… and while I can see it has potential, and is the way forward, it also seems to leave me feeling a bit low and cross about everything. But the first session felt like a heavy weight had unshackled itself for a few hours, so I have to hold onto that feeling, and know that the lightness will come back. I think the miserable part has to be got through in order to come out the other side smiling or something equally mushy. So I shall just carry on being low and cross. Gosh I sound delightful company!
I rather wish there was an injection you could take (not heroin, obviously) that would sort it all out for you. Maybe something free on the NHS. It would be much easier than killing tissues while talking to someone. Much less painful, and it could even come with a free chocolate bar for afterwards, and perhaps a badge – ‘I’m Not Sad!’ - with a slider so you can change sad for ‘mad!’ or ‘bad!’ depending on your problem.
I tried to give myself a stirring pep talk the other day. I told myself that there was no point moping around and that things will get better and I should just knuckle down to writing and get on with it. I did this in a series of Stern Thoughts as I crossed underneath London on a busy tube train. I no doubt looked rather cheesed off, although that could be my habitual expression while commuting, of course.
I am reading ‘Testament of Youth’ by Vera Brittain at the moment. My counsellor leant it to me (why? What does that mean? Does it mean anything?!), and it works well as a distraction, although I find myself at times wanting to step through the pages and give some of those people the benefit of my Stern Thoughts as well. But it is interesting to see that teenagers and young people of 1913 were really no different to teenagers and young people today, in that they all at some time write god-awful poetry.
There may be more on ‘Testament of Youth’ when I finish it (661 pages! Didn’t she have an editor?) as I haven’t read an awful lot on the First World War, but it seems that most of the officers were impressionable dramatic young boys that hadn’t a clue what they were about to be launched into, and it makes me… um… cross. Perhaps I need to read something like ‘Calvin and Hobbes’ instead!
So… my last blog entry looks rather jaunty compared to this! I still haven’t written the vague chapter plan, or found the children’s book. I fear The Stuff Under The Bed may have eaten it. But all this will happen; it’s on the plan of things to do, as soon as I muster some energy for it. I shall try another stirring pep-talk (eek!) and see what I get done this weekend.