Time is the most slippery of things. It feels limitless, stretches out into the unknown. Unquantifiable for all the multitude of words trying to contain it. And then suddenly it is gone. Vanished. Before you are even aware it has passed.
I could have sworn it was only last month I wrote. I remember two weeks passing and thinking it was time to write again. Somehow those two weeks became two months. Time left me in its slipstream. Leaving me standing still whilst the world moved on without me. Again. I have too much time and so I squander it. Believing there will always be time. I can always do it later. Tomorrow. Next week.
Until that time becomes months later. Or sometimes never.
Those two months have been full of half starts. Of ideas that have sprung up whilst walking, sitting on the bus. Whilst half asleep, half living. Fading away because I am too full of doubts, of questions. Always waiting for the right idea, the right time.
Always waiting for everything to be right.
Add starting counseling and a trip to New York (which whilst amazing exhausted me before I even left my home) to my attempts to live a‘normal’ life, well it has felt like I have been running on empty. My energy levels and focus are not great at the best of times but when life gets busy, I struggle even more. I cancel things, am unable to think beyond those things needing attention right now. I am simply too tired, too exhausted mentally and physically. So I focus on the biggest and current demands whilst the rest falls by the wayside.
And well there has been no space, no energy, for anything else. To grasp these half starts and fight those doubts. And two weeks became two months.