Why exactly I have been posting inconsistently, and that I will be posting regularly again starting last week. And, over the last few weeks, I’ve written thousands of words, end edited far more than that, with 5 articles queued up already...
"I want certain things in life and I’m going to go get them." I vibe with this. I'm sorry about all that happened, and you're right, by the end of the list, it seemed almost fictional it was so unbelievable. I'm super stoked to read all that you've got planned to publish.
It seems like the wrong emoji to 'like' a tragic post like this, so please read my 'like' as a heart warming hug.
When, my dog died I didn't change out of my PJs for a week. I lost my routine, my motivation, my reason for being.
I ended up writing a pair of short stories to help process it. But, everyone has different mechanisms. I also set alarms telling me to get out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, etc. Normal human processes just disappear when you are grieving.
Mother Horror wrote an excellent article about turning up for yourself and this might be a prime time. Don't worry about the newsletter for now, spend some time on yourself. We'll be here when you get back reinvigorated.
I'm going to say something silly because what you have been and are currently experiencing is far too much for anyone to process except through the lens of spontaneous need (i.e., you do what your gut tells you needs to be done) and it sounds like you might need a silly moment: we had a cat named Banjo, name picked out of the dictionary by my mother, and she was the angriest, meanest, most ridiculous creature ever (and so was the cat... ;) Peace be with you, Nathan.
You’ve been shouldering a lot, my friend. I’m so sorry to learn of it all. I’m really looking forward to reading what you have planned. And in case it’s helpful to hear it: grief is a tricky beast, so if there are stretches where it rears its head, don’t be afraid to give it the time and space for which it’s asking. Thinking of you and sending warmth and hugs.
"I want certain things in life and I’m going to go get them." I vibe with this. I'm sorry about all that happened, and you're right, by the end of the list, it seemed almost fictional it was so unbelievable. I'm super stoked to read all that you've got planned to publish.
It seems like the wrong emoji to 'like' a tragic post like this, so please read my 'like' as a heart warming hug.
When, my dog died I didn't change out of my PJs for a week. I lost my routine, my motivation, my reason for being.
I ended up writing a pair of short stories to help process it. But, everyone has different mechanisms. I also set alarms telling me to get out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, etc. Normal human processes just disappear when you are grieving.
Mother Horror wrote an excellent article about turning up for yourself and this might be a prime time. Don't worry about the newsletter for now, spend some time on yourself. We'll be here when you get back reinvigorated.
This is late, but I'm here, reading. I look forward to reading more. But take care of yourself first.
I'm going to say something silly because what you have been and are currently experiencing is far too much for anyone to process except through the lens of spontaneous need (i.e., you do what your gut tells you needs to be done) and it sounds like you might need a silly moment: we had a cat named Banjo, name picked out of the dictionary by my mother, and she was the angriest, meanest, most ridiculous creature ever (and so was the cat... ;) Peace be with you, Nathan.
You’ve been shouldering a lot, my friend. I’m so sorry to learn of it all. I’m really looking forward to reading what you have planned. And in case it’s helpful to hear it: grief is a tricky beast, so if there are stretches where it rears its head, don’t be afraid to give it the time and space for which it’s asking. Thinking of you and sending warmth and hugs.