If at first you don't succeed, try, try again…and again…and again.

 I have always been more of a thinker than a writer, a day dreamer if you please. With my head off in the clouds and very rarely in the 'here and now' writing did not seem like the obvious step forward. It takes time and energy to transfer thoughts and ideas to the page. Time and energy I have copious amounts of, and none of, all at the same time.

The problem is, when I have so many thoughts and ideas whizzing around, my brain becomes crowded. I can no longer think along a straight line and I find that I have just put the bottle of milk in the washing machine or something else utterly absurd. So there needs to be an outlet for all those random thoughts that strike me at all hours of the day and keep me awake at night, but what?


I have been told numerous times over the years that I should write things down to help me get perspective. Clear my head to make space for new thoughts, new ideas, new dreams but until now I have been reluctant to do so. Not just because of the time and energy it would take to write them all down but because the gremlins in my head make me feel like I should censor the things I would like to say. I have recently been told by a fellow blogger and writer that this is my 'critical parent', my 'internal editor' making me censor what I say. I like to call them my gremlins because they are ugly, spiteful and they seem to multiply when splashed with negative emotion. Whatever they call it they make me want to keep it all locked away inside my brain where no one can judge me and I am safe.

So, why am I writing this?
I have asked myself this question repeatedly and have minced around the truth of this question for a couple of months now and this was the only honest answer as to why I felt the need to write.

Many times I have had to start over with my life and each time I feel like I have failed to accomplish my dreams and aspirations, like I have let myself and everyone around me down and all I wanted to do is crawl into a hole and not re-emerge, unless I won the lottery of course. However, after a period of self loathing, doubt and mourning over what I had lost I found I came to a point where I had to make a decision. Do I continue feeling sorry for myself or do I set myself new goals and strive for a new dream, or a slightly modified old one? This point usually comes when I step out of my own misery and look at my better half. I see how hard he tries and how much he cares and he reminds me why I was trying in the first place.

For us.

He makes me want to keep trying, to be the best that I can be and to always find a way round the dung heaps that life so carelessly leaves in it's wake. If it wasn't for my better half I would have given up a long time ago. I certainly would not have found a new job when I could no longer do hairdressing. I would not have found a diagnosis to my illness that made no sense and I certainly would not be writing this now.

Today is a new beginning and with all new beginnings we must shed our old life and step boldly into the present and face our fears head on. Writing something for the world to see and judge me on is one of my biggest fears, one which I now intend to face without my gremlins (hopefully) and probably with a lot of spell checking, but maybe, just maybe it will help.

And if it all goes tits up…well, then I will try again.