Hey, all. It’s me, your friendly, neighborhood bad blogger here.
Giving up on projects has been a lifelong bad habit of mine. I’ve started more books and blogs than I can remember. I dive into a project with so much hope. I work on it day and night. And then some minor obstacle comes up. One of the kids is sick. I have an IEP meeting to prep for. My husband has to work overtime. I help a friend move. I miss a day of writing. I jump back in, telling myself that it’s okay. Life happens, and I just need to find my groove again. I don’t like the way a post is reading, so I start it over. The next day, I still can’t seem to get it right. I miss another day. And another. I have a bad week. And before I know it, it feels almost embarrassing to keep trying. Isn’t it easier to just archive the evidence and try to forget about the failure? Well, sure. But as I get older and become more accustomed to this “life” thing that we’re all attempting, I am learning that “easy” isn’t always…well, easy.
One of the prompts on the list that Ali and I compiled was to discuss a bad habit that we wanted to break this year, and I fully intended to use this blog as both a vehicle to shift my nature, and proof that I had, in fact, overcome it. Really, my goal was more about creating good habits than breaking bad ones, but those concepts are kind of two sides of the same coin, yes?
Well, as the second half of 2018 rapidly approaches, and I am still able to count my published blog posts from this year on my fingers, my brain is sending up its default white flags. Typically, this is the point where I would accept defeat, quietly delete posts, and deactivate my Instagram, and tell myself that it’s okay because nothing bad can come from dropping this one project. No one is counting on me.
I can rationalize until the cows come home, and maybe even feed them my innumerable excuses. I mean, I’ll still be constantly stressed out over my unsuccessful blog, but at least the cows can offer tea and sympathy.
They say that the first step to solving a problem is recognizing that it exists. I am an expert problem existence recognizer, but like so much else in my life, I usually lose interest after the first step.
Not. This. Time.