You missed one...
I didn't blog yesterday, though I was certainly at my computer all day. I applied for a couple of things, tried to get my resume out there further and further. Then the ALT came home early and we had a...not an argument...but, she wants to see me do well and wants me to get out of my rut of debt and vicious cycle of gaining entry-level employment only to end up losing the job and having to start over again. She wants to to see me succeed. Of course that benefits her, me, us, this family unit, but my concern is how much cost is to be had by trying to return to school.
But, maybe it really is the only way out. Yes, I may have to take on more debt, but if I get a job that I can stay in for longer than five years that pays more than entry-level wages, I can get out from under all this through sheer will alone. My writing is not going to pay the bills. It would take more than a miracle for that to happen. I'm not doubting my craft, I just know that there is plenty of entertainment to choose from and making a success out of art, making a living wage out of it, should not be the end goal. I should write because I love to tell stories, not to make ends meet; then I would lose sight of what I want to say. So, maybe taking on a little (or a lot) more debt right now can lead to a job that pays the bills tomorrow, gives me peace of mind and a little spending money, and with that, comfort and confidence to write more regularly, freely.
As it is, yesterday I spent a lot of time writing, but not here, not even in my stories, but on transcribing audio. That is some hard work! Physically (I subconsciously quit breathing so I can hear better and my posture is suffering!) and mentally. Listen to four seconds, type a few words, rewind, make sure those words are right, what did they actually say? How did they put it? Is this a false-start or trailing thought? How many ellipses are too many ellipses? Is that crosstalk or unintelligible?
I have terrible grammar, reading this blog, I'm sure you can tell. I'm prone to run-on sentences and I'm a huge fan of commas. See? That last sentence is two independent thoughts, there should be a period, not an "and," but I write like a stream of consciousness. That's how people talk, and having to transcribe that, having to put into actual written words what someone has said out loud in a conversation, makes it so glaringly obvious how difficult the English language actually is; to parse, to translate, to make sense of.
But let me get back to that "I quit breathing" bit. This is a problem I've had since I was in middle school. I'm fairly certain it started in 7th grade, maybe I was suffering some allergies or something, but I can clearly remember having the thought, "All of this breathing is unnecessary, I only need to take a breath when I need to take a breath." It was in the middle of class, probably math class, pre-Algebra or something. I knew that I could become more efficient and clear of mind if I only breathed in when I felt like I needed air. Somehow, I taught myself how not to breathe, instead of leaving this normally subconscious, involuntary action alone and breathing like a normal human being. It's stuck with me for years, and only recently have I realized the problems that it has caused me. Being constantly short of breath, constantly depriving myself, it has set me up for anxiety and panic because it has only contributed to that desire to shrink, to be unnoticeable, to be as limited in my taking up space as I can be. Now? Now being noticed gets my hockles up. And I want to be an entertainer?!
While transcribing and sitting at my desk at home and not even noticing that I'm not breathing and sitting with exceptionally poor posture, I put pressure on my lungs and esophagus. I noticed it yesterday, swallowing was becoming difficult, breathing felt ragged, I was asphyxiating myself with my own head and shoulders. On the jobs that I've had, even those where I sat at a desk a lot and for a long time, I still moved around, either jockeying paperwork or purposefully getting up. But sitting in my own home just listening to audio and typing? I'm too complacent and sedentary. I can see how people die at their desks, gamers and office workers alike, we really aren't meant to sit down all the damn time. Coupled with my psychotic notion to quit breathing, I was quickly making myself sick in my own home.
So what to do? Well, of course I'm looking for a job, of course I want to eliminate my debt, either through my own pay or some benefactor's generosity, I do want that fresh start, but what good is any of that if I'm perpetually making myself sick through conscious and subconscious idiosyncrasies?
I'm going to need to take the mindfulness and exercise more seriously. Meditate every day. Exercise in some way every day. And just like the point of this writing every day, make healthy habits out of, well, being healthy. Even now, I'm having to remind myself to take normal breaths; inhale, then exhale, then immediately inhale... Can you believe that I don't do that, that I have hampered myself so severely that I don't know how to fucking breathe?!
So, yeah, yesterday I didn't journal on my blog, but I was sitting at my desk perhaps a little too much. Striking balance is really hard work.
"Where the fear has gone...
Only I will remain."
But, maybe it really is the only way out. Yes, I may have to take on more debt, but if I get a job that I can stay in for longer than five years that pays more than entry-level wages, I can get out from under all this through sheer will alone. My writing is not going to pay the bills. It would take more than a miracle for that to happen. I'm not doubting my craft, I just know that there is plenty of entertainment to choose from and making a success out of art, making a living wage out of it, should not be the end goal. I should write because I love to tell stories, not to make ends meet; then I would lose sight of what I want to say. So, maybe taking on a little (or a lot) more debt right now can lead to a job that pays the bills tomorrow, gives me peace of mind and a little spending money, and with that, comfort and confidence to write more regularly, freely.
As it is, yesterday I spent a lot of time writing, but not here, not even in my stories, but on transcribing audio. That is some hard work! Physically (I subconsciously quit breathing so I can hear better and my posture is suffering!) and mentally. Listen to four seconds, type a few words, rewind, make sure those words are right, what did they actually say? How did they put it? Is this a false-start or trailing thought? How many ellipses are too many ellipses? Is that crosstalk or unintelligible?
I have terrible grammar, reading this blog, I'm sure you can tell. I'm prone to run-on sentences and I'm a huge fan of commas. See? That last sentence is two independent thoughts, there should be a period, not an "and," but I write like a stream of consciousness. That's how people talk, and having to transcribe that, having to put into actual written words what someone has said out loud in a conversation, makes it so glaringly obvious how difficult the English language actually is; to parse, to translate, to make sense of.
But let me get back to that "I quit breathing" bit. This is a problem I've had since I was in middle school. I'm fairly certain it started in 7th grade, maybe I was suffering some allergies or something, but I can clearly remember having the thought, "All of this breathing is unnecessary, I only need to take a breath when I need to take a breath." It was in the middle of class, probably math class, pre-Algebra or something. I knew that I could become more efficient and clear of mind if I only breathed in when I felt like I needed air. Somehow, I taught myself how not to breathe, instead of leaving this normally subconscious, involuntary action alone and breathing like a normal human being. It's stuck with me for years, and only recently have I realized the problems that it has caused me. Being constantly short of breath, constantly depriving myself, it has set me up for anxiety and panic because it has only contributed to that desire to shrink, to be unnoticeable, to be as limited in my taking up space as I can be. Now? Now being noticed gets my hockles up. And I want to be an entertainer?!
While transcribing and sitting at my desk at home and not even noticing that I'm not breathing and sitting with exceptionally poor posture, I put pressure on my lungs and esophagus. I noticed it yesterday, swallowing was becoming difficult, breathing felt ragged, I was asphyxiating myself with my own head and shoulders. On the jobs that I've had, even those where I sat at a desk a lot and for a long time, I still moved around, either jockeying paperwork or purposefully getting up. But sitting in my own home just listening to audio and typing? I'm too complacent and sedentary. I can see how people die at their desks, gamers and office workers alike, we really aren't meant to sit down all the damn time. Coupled with my psychotic notion to quit breathing, I was quickly making myself sick in my own home.
So what to do? Well, of course I'm looking for a job, of course I want to eliminate my debt, either through my own pay or some benefactor's generosity, I do want that fresh start, but what good is any of that if I'm perpetually making myself sick through conscious and subconscious idiosyncrasies?
I'm going to need to take the mindfulness and exercise more seriously. Meditate every day. Exercise in some way every day. And just like the point of this writing every day, make healthy habits out of, well, being healthy. Even now, I'm having to remind myself to take normal breaths; inhale, then exhale, then immediately inhale... Can you believe that I don't do that, that I have hampered myself so severely that I don't know how to fucking breathe?!
So, yeah, yesterday I didn't journal on my blog, but I was sitting at my desk perhaps a little too much. Striking balance is really hard work.
"Where the fear has gone...
Only I will remain."
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