There was a time when I blogged twice a week, but somehow those days drifted by and now I am lucky if I remember to blog once a week. I'm trying. I could blame the weather and that certainly has something to do with it, but it's me. It's a certain amount of depression associated with a feeling of failure. I've failed. I've failed as a person, an author, and lately… as a mom.
Might be a shock to some of you who haven't read my bio, but I am a mother of three. Yes, I'm a girl and I have blogged plenty about that. Check out>> Wade Kelly: I'm Just a Girl… A Girl Named Wade. In short, I've posted that I've met people named Hunter, Devon, Logan, Shannon, Taylor, Dana, and a Kelly in BOTH genders. And recently I've met a Shawn and a Michael. So, yeah, WADE… Not so hard to think of me as a girl when every other girl is taking what used to be traditionally considered "boys" names. It's been a year since I "came out" about why I chose the pen-name Wade Kelly. If you are reading this and didn't know. Sorry. No offense intended. Many places (like goodreads) have my gender listed and I have my picture on Facebook. Eventually, when I don't fear the people in my past so much, I will begin listing a picture of myself in my bio. It IS, however, on the GRL website. That was my first step this year to putting myself fully out there.
It is a scary place, very exposing. I've taken a lot of shit over the past couple years and in the process I became fractured and scattered like pieces of a mirror reflecting my soul in all directions. 2013 was like a cleansing year. It was a year to pick up those pieces of ME and glue them back together with real friendships and true love and acceptance. It was the nicest year I've had in a long while. I have found real friends and it is freeing to finally feel like myself almost all the time. The goal for 2014 is to bring my "shards" closer still and be more of ME, and me without apology. It is a difficult thing when you've hidden who you are to open the door to hurt, but I have to try. It is freeing when you don't have to pretend or second guess everything. *Side note: something I would want to tell Matt and Brad and Sam. haha. JUST BE YOURSELF. ALL THE TIME! But I do know how hard that is in some small sense because I've been there. Being yourself in a world that may not accept you is terrifying.
Anyway…. Back to feeling like a failure.
My son is adopted. And though I want to feel close to him, as any mother would her child (hopefully), There is that part that will never be close because I missed out on way too many years of his development. There is a void, and the relationship came that way from the start. Now, he's 17 almost 18, and has a girlfriend, and is "happy" whenever he is with her. He's pulled away and spends his time there. I've met her once in 6 weeks and I feel lost and dejected. MUCH of this has to do with me. I WANT my little boy to love his mother and shower me with affection, but he's not a little boy. And all his affection goes HER way. I don't know how to talk to him. I don't know how to mother him. I don't know how to set boundaries or pull the boundaries back when they are too tight. I don't know what I should expect from him or how to explain my expectations. He's a boy. I'm a woman. I'm a woman who just wants to feel like he loves me no matter where he is or whom he's with and I don't feel that. He doesn't share. He doesn't talk. He doesn't interact much when he's home. He shuts himself away in his room and says "We are never home anyway." (referring to the fact that I am always driving some kid somewhere all the time.) How do I let go? How do I let my baby bird jump from the nest at 17 and hope he doesn't forget that I love him? He forgets so many other things.
I don't know how to be what I need to be and so I feel like a failure.
And then I am supposed to be a writer. Writers WRITE, don't they? I can't even do that. I have no creativity. I have three books hovering around 38-44k and yet they sit. THREE half written books. You would think that would be a good thing because that is three that are close to being done. I should be excited and finish them off. But I don't know how. I feel inadequate. I feel BORING. I read things I wrote and think surely no one will find this interesting. Although, I do have to say that last night I was reading the ending I wrote for Misplaced Affection and I really liked it. I didn't want to change it. I hope my ending isn't off-putting to the masses because I like what I did.
I guess this goes back to fear. I fear basically EVERYTHING. I'm afraid of being hated. I'm afraid of being forgotten. I'm afraid my son will replace me with this girl and never need me again. I'm afraid I won't be able to finish another novel. I'm afraid that my up coming release in July will be a bust. I'm afraid and terribly sad for Eric and Tj. I'm afraid that my new tattoo is going to just peel or fall off my finger because it doesn't look like a tattoo as much as it look like a chalk drawing. I'm afraid I am loosing the ability to find time for myself again.
There used to be a time when I spent ALL my energy taking care of everyone else, and I forgot ME. And then it swung the other direction and I was watching out for my own needs and forgot everyone else. Now, I'm exhausted all the time. I go go go, but hardly ever sit and do what I love. WRITE. Partly because I feel like there isn't anything in there worth writing. And partly because I spend all my time taking care of everyone else. (Although I bet they would not see it that way.)
So, yeah, I've been quiet. I've run out of interesting things to say because I am consumed with thoughts of inadequacy. Do I measure up? Am I a failure? These are real questions and feelings I have at the moment which inhibit me from embracing all the good things in life I already have. So there you have it. ME. Me and the mess that is in my head right now. So pray for me that the right words would flow because right now, every one I type is a struggle.