I miss writing.

I hear myself say these three words.

Every. Single. Day.

I can’t stand that I’m saying them.

I can’t stand that I’m not writing with the frequency and passion that once drove me to this blog.

Every. Single. Day.

I can’t stand that writing has somehow fallen off my list of priorities.

What’s going on? Why am I not writing?

This year kicked off with a major surgery in January.

I attempted to return to work four weeks after my hysterectomy.

I wasn’t healthy enough.

Two more weeks of recovering, and I was good to go.

But I was slow.

Slow to get my work done.

Slow to get back into physical shape.

Slow to get back to normal life.

But one day I discovered I felt normal and healthy.

The rough winter was over, and spring bloomed with the sunshine I craved, multiple pitches to editors and an outline for a new book I was itching to write.

I signed up for hot yoga.

I signed up for Orangetheory Fitness.

I had one essay about my hysterectomy published and then another.

My boyfriend and I decided to go to Iceland for our end-of-summer vacation, and I started planning our epic adventure.

Summer was in full swing, and I couldn’t wait for all the beach days of paddle boarding and sunsets.

I said to a friend, “I’m so happy I can’t help but wonder when the other shoe is going to drop.”

And then it dropped.

The day after celebrating the 4th of July, the owner of our beach rental house informed us we had to vacate because she was selling it to a family member.

We had six weeks to find another house. In the kids’ school zone. And move.

No beach days for me.

I spent every minute of free time house hunting and packing.

I stopped finding time to write.

Hot yoga and Orangetheory were afterthoughts.

I contemplated canceling our trip to Iceland.

But somehow we found a house and moved in under a month.

I spent every minute of free time unpacking and creating a new home for my family.

And getting one kid ready to start high school and the other to start middle school.

And finalizing our trip to Iceland (because, dammit, I refused to cancel the trip to Iceland!).

I still wasn’t writing.

I stopped going to hot yoga altogether and made pathetic appearances at Orangetheory.

I treated our 11-day drive around the entire country of Iceland as a break from moving boxes and change of address forms and stress.

(Side note: Iceland was absolutely incredible. Truly an epic adventure. I highly recommend and will gladly help plan your itinerary.)

I returned home to work and new house stress and schools not releasing schedules because I had no proper proof of address.

I told myself life would settle down soon.

School started (after finally getting schedules).

I resumed a hot yoga and Orangetheory routine.

And while I wasn’t working on my books, I finally made time to throw together some essays and send out pitches.

But editors didn’t bite.

I got a couple of kind and constructive rejections, but mostly I got no responses at all.

Which is very discouraging.

And more discouraging?

Realizing I haven’t been published since May.

Realizing I haven’t written a blog post since February.

Realizing I have two drafts-in-progress of books begging to be worked on.

Which brings us to up to date.

These are my thoughts today.

I miss writing.

Because I have yet to find the time and energy in between a full-time job, parenting a teen and a tween, spending time with my boyfriend and taking care of my health to rekindle the passion I once had to write.

Every. Single. Day.

But life was no less hectic back when I published a blog post every weekday.

Life was no less hectic when I participated in three consecutive NaNoWriMo’s to make significant progress on my novel.

Life was no less hectic when I scribbled pages and pages of journal entries that included endless ideas for topics to write about.

I miss writing.

But life never slows down.

So it’s time to stop making a blog post worth of excuses for why I haven’t been writing.

And start writing.

Every. Single. Day.

2 Comments on I Miss Writing

  1. Saw your hysterectomy story on healthline. Even though I didn’t have the opportunity to have any children having a hysterectomy before I left for a deployment to Iraq at 29 you completely embraced the emotional/guilt side. Thank you I consistently tell people I would take my horrible periods back in order in turn for my uterus. And if one more individual says there’s always adoption or you can have one of mine! Ggggrrrr But goodness my hysterectomy was 10 years ago and I tell you that feeling of void/regret doesn’t go away. Sorry I’m rambling thank you again Angela

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