It’s been years since I had a hard time getting to bed in the morning, but here we are. This is in part because I’ve been staying up too late. But I’ve only been staying up too late to prologue the inevitability of having to get up in the morning.

And why? Because when I get up in the morning, I have to fight with myself over my revision.

I haven’t had so much trouble with a writing task in a long time. I’m the go-to girl. I get it done and I get it done fast. Except that with the trauma of the last year, I’m not getting it done fast–I’m getting it done with much weeping and wailing. Add to that the new skills I’m picking up, which means my brain gets fried much faster (this is your brain; this is your brain on writing), and we have a recipe for a slow and painful (yet productive) revision.

And then compound on top of that the question of my future. Am I going to be a writer, or a teacher, or a business partner, or some combination of all of these things? Just how long is it going to take before everything is stable enough to move on with other long term goals, like saving for a house, like having kids? How long to I waiver in uncertainty before I just make the decision to act on the things I have control over and let the rest of them go for good? Will this revision be any better than the others? Will it help me progress, or prolong the limbo? Am I ever going to learn to get this right? And if I do, will anyone ever really pay money for it? If I take forever to get there, how many more professionals will give up on me? Will this slow down last forever? Will I get faster again, get better? Will this work be worth it? Am I doing the right thing? Am I?

I want so badly for all this to be the wrong thing. Because if it is the wrong thing, I could quit and feel relief. I could stop and things would be easier. But if it’s a right thing, then the only way out is through all of this hard work.

The only way out is through.

So I have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, because when I get up I have to fight with myself and my work. I delay going to bed because as long as I stay up, I don’t have to wake up and deal with it.

I have to believe this is going to get easier again. It’s been easier before. It won’t stay like this forever. I’ll learn the new skills; I’ll get my confidence back. I’ll go back to being the go-to girl, only I’ll be better at it than I was before. I’ll be less afraid. My work will improve. I’ll be able to balance the work with other goals. I’ll either meet success or find success somewhere else. I have to keep telling myself this story. I have to believe that it’s true.

The only way out is through.
So through it is.