I don’t know what to write.

[UPDATE: day 16: the following was written (and somehow Not Published) on Feb. 19 of this year, which happened to be President’s Day. Middle finger to The Fear of reading/posting old work. Look how far I’ve come.]

I never had a plan for this blog. Then I had (way) too many plans. That’s my life in a nutshell, it seems—one extreme to the other and back again.

I try too hard, take on too many things at once, then I quit, or give out and end up accomplishing nothing. When I look forward, at my goals, I neglect to acknowledge the progress I’ve made. When I look back, I see everything I’ve learned along the way and refuse to call it waste. When I am in today, in the moment, everything seems fine or, at least, I can make it seem fine.

I know that my thoughts are powerful things and, though it’s not always easy, I can shake off negativity and say things like ‘I will try again tomorrow.’ Like today, when I got everything ready to go to the post office, only to arrive and realize it’s a holiday. It’s not a big deal. I accomplished a lot just getting there, and it will be easier to go tomorrow because of that.

I believe that. I know it’s true. I believe and know a great many things. I know I can hit ‘publish’ when I finish writing this and not care who reads it or if anyone does. I’m doing it because I said I would—and that’s fine—this is today.

It’s how to care about tomorrow, and some of my yesterdays, while living today that I’m struggling with. I don’t seem to have enough…whatever it is…to do it all, and it’s a struggle every day to decide what’s most important. And I no longer know what I’m working toward.

If that’s the anxiety or depression talking, that’s fine, but it’s still me talking too. It’s not a bad day. It’s a beautiful day, I’m grateful for it, and I don’t wish to complain about anything.

I just wanted to start something I could finish.