April is a Camp NaNoWriMo month. I had planned on finishing the project that I had been working on last November during NaNoWriMo. I've been so busy with this home schooling stuff that I just have no spoons left at the end of the day to write much of anything. I'm somewhat despondent over this. I keep trying to summon the energy to write and it just isn't there.
Even short blog posts are hard. I feel like writing is pointless right now when there are countless people dying in mass due to COVID-19. I feel like writing is selfish because I have a house to keep and children to make sure are doing their school work. I feel like writing is bad because I have been triggered into this mindset that I had as a kid for a long time living under terrible emotional duress. This NYS on PAUSE has not been too great for my mental health. As such, it makes doing things for myself very hard.
I feel like I'm trapped in my parents house again. I feel like I'm a kid whose doing their best to model adult behaviors so that they don't get punished for failure despite the fact that I wasn't really getting good guidance on how to do that. I'm not having daily flashbacks to trauma. Yet. Depending on how things shake out with this social distancing and such, I may be dealing with that.
NaNoWriMo is very much an adult thing. I didn't even know it existed when I was a kid. If I had, I would have tried it and been mocked for it. It is upsetting that I didn't have the time to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo. I know that August's Camp NaNoWriMo is going to be shot. The kids will be out of school most certainly at that point in time. I'll be doing the same thing then that I am doing now, playing referee / attempting to come up with as many educational activities as I can to keep them from getting bored and fighting.
The bitter irony that my boys are making their own little books over the last two weeks sticks in my throat. I try not to think about it. I try to encourage them in their creative efforts. And I try not to resent the fact that I wasn't able to work on my own creative writing. I barely get time to journal. I haven't done any therapy oriented writing in the last two months because I just can't seem to get to it. My prayer journals are languishing. It's all a mess here and I am trying to find how to fit it into my daily routine which has dramatically changed to the point that I struggle to sneak in time to brush my teeth in the morning some days.
Gods help me, I don't know what I'm going to do.
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