It’s been a while. Since my last post I have had two more Outpatient surgeries with a Carbon Scar Laser to breakdown the thicker scar tissue on my legs limiting my mobility. With that came two weeks of intense recovery, which included pain as well as exhaustion and mental fatigue from the anesthesia.
It made writing practically impossible. That was severely frustrating, coming after two years of trying desperately to regain my form, discipline, and momentum.
Then the day came where I found myself with no submissions out for publication consideration. No one was reading my work. And I panicked.
It’s hard enough, while in recovery, not to feel useless every time I have to set a story aside to be finished later, or let go of a submission deadline I could meet if I only didn’t do any of the self-care I need to do. It feels like failure.
If I want any kind of longevity my self-care has to come first. I know this. It doesn’t mean I don’t push at the edges of what that means to see how much more I can do as I heal.
So I spent two weeks in a half-haze discerning which submission calls were realistic to attempt time-wise. I sent a few out and then had to stop. The quality was lagging. I didn’t want to compromise my writing out of fear. But now there are subs still out, still being considered. Every day that goes by without a rejection is a blessed day.
And I’m starting to have the energy again to work.
Stories are forming from the warming days. Characters are climbing out of the birdsong and their histories poke through the cold earth. There will be time to recover and time to write.