To Quit or Not to Quit

I took the title of “writer” off of my profile today. It seemed like the right thing, after months of not being able to make progress and after some of the critiques I’ve had.  It was easier than it should have been.

After my last round of pills for  anxiety and depression, anything remotely like creativity dried up. I had nothing stirring around in this big, empty, wooden head of mine. Reading became a painful reminder of tasks undone and dreams not pursued. The more I read, the more I realized that maybe my trusted friend was right, maybe I should look at some of the other things I’m good at.  I’ll never forget that comment as long as I live. It felt like a curved sacrificial blade was slicing and pulling out my heart.

That became my reason for stopping, that I was no bloody good. My writing is not polished, it’s overly complicated, it’s amateurish. There was one nagging thing though, and like all things that are pushed down, it eventually resurfaced. The pull started again, the ideas.

I need to do it.  Good or awful.

There are a lot of reasons to quit something. It may come to nothing, it may be received with harsh criticism, it may have been done before (everything has)…but the drive, the need can’t be extinguished and so, to silence that inner demon, I’ll write. I’m not sure what yet. I’m not sure my manuscript is worthy of revisiting, but I’m going to do it for the satisfaction of having done it. I’m going to take the next steps to get the novice mistakes out of the way and even if the final product is bad, it’s mine. It’s work I’ve done, it’s sweat, tears, and emotions that needed exorcising.

What spurred me on tonight was an essay by another writer about the ten years she spent on a book that came to nothing but that everything had been worth it. Looking from the outside, it made so much more sense. Perseverance is a hard thing to practice when you’ve beaten yourself down and had no cheerleader in your corner,  but it’s the cornerstone of success. Even if I’m the Ed Wood of authors, I will have at least done what my inner self called me to do in order to be happy.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to reinstate my title of writer. I know that no matter what, I’m going to be writing in the quiet. I need to flex the muscles a bit more, but I intend on never quitting again, especially if it’s based on someone else’s opinions.

Evaluation Day

Parenting. What an adventure. Like Jeff Goldblum said of kids in Jurassic Park, anything can and does happen.  It’s D day. Doctor Day. It’s bound to be the beginning of a gauntlet of hoops both fiery and razor-wire wrapped that I’m going to have to jump through to figure out how to get the boy through school successfully.

Since second grade I’ve had the inkling that my kid lives in his head. Hell, so do I. We have great big imaginations, he and I. The real world can’t compete most days. The problem though, is that most teachers find that to be a problem. While most of them so far have agreed that he’s a brilliant and creative kid, he just has problems getting through the structured environment that is the classroom to get his work done.

A while ago, I discovered that wheat was a problem. It made him spin out. It also made me a bloated walrus of a craving carb fiend. Bad all around, so we eliminated it. That move made a huge difference for that school year. He calmed down, things were better for us both. His teacher loved him, he adored her and worked hard. There was no sign of a “meeting” about his student success. Last year, things were a little iffy. His teachers weren’t the most communicative but they assured me he was doing fine, so I took their word.

This year, however, almost from the outset, I’ve heard terms like “severe ADHD” and that he can’t focus for more than a few minutes. They’re concerned for his lack of “success as a student” and we already have a meeting planned. Back to that. It sounds like these teachers also like the boy. They find him to be sensitive and brilliant in that creative way that eludes most people, but just try to get him to sit down to finish a math worksheet when he wants to listen to the music the birds are making and the kid’s pencil next to him is obscuring the sound. He can’t sit still. He’s big on sound effects. He’s in his head. I know all of this and I both feel for him and fear for him.

While I want him to get the best out his school experience, because I loved school and learning everything I could, I don’t want him to lose himself. He’s a wonderful creative kid. I’m basically afraid that they’ll try to drug the awesome right out of my kid and that’s where my Mama Bear fight is coming up in spades. Yes, he needs to succeed. Yes, he needs to be able to balance, but yes, he also needs to be safe and be able to be himself. Somewhere there is going to be an argument I feel. I’ve already got a suit picked out for my meeting. It’s style is somewhere between Mrs. Malfoy and Regina Mills from Once Upon a Time. There will be no doubt that I’m going in there with my battle gear on to face the committee. We’re all supposed to be on the same side but it somehow feels like facing a firing squad; me against the school’s death committee.

I know that they will advise me to drug him to make their lives easier and to “help him be successful”. I don’t know if that’s the best course of action or not. It’s a lot of forward thinking I know. I’m only at stop one along the long road but I need to be ready for what’s waiting for us. The boy needs to know that I’m in his corner, wand and shield in hand, ready to fight for his well being and his right to be himself. I want him to be the best him he can be, as long as he doesn’t lose himself along the way, that’s all I can ask. We aren’t the first to be here and we won’t be the last. Time to see what step one brings us…