When I randomly started this thing yesterday, I was looking for a zone of accountability. And maybe of continuity. Somewhere where I could air my woes, and maybe reference a triumph or two. But then, suddenly it all became more personal. I realized I had some stories to share--some memories that are so pathetic that they're almost funny--and other thoughts on this subject that might lead to a project a little bit more meaty. I started to think through the possibilities and got excited.
And then I got scared. Here I want to do this project--a blog about a subject I care a lot about. A blog that will require consistency and flow and stamina if I want it to be what I want it to be. And the subject of the blog is the very reason I might stumble after two entries and never come back if I'm not careful. The subject makes my success here improbable, if not quite impossible
The irony made me smile. It reminded me of the time a few years ago when I was teaching 8th grade English and I stumbled upon a support network for moms whose kids have the inattentive subtype of ADHD while looking for teaching resources online. I read the accounts of lost lunch money (again!) and crumpled homework (found in jeans pocket after doing the laundry!) and these moms' devastatingly frustrated desires to see their kids succeed, and I wanted to reach out. I wanted to say "It's okay. Your kid can be successful. I'm proof!" I opened a comment box and started writing about myself--how I had finished college, how I was a teacher, and was doing well, and being able to make deadlines and keep track of things. How things were different in some ways for me than they were when I was a kid and my poor mom, like them, must have worried if I'd ever make it. Except, while trying to write this simple email, I kept finding myself doing or thinking other things--"coming to" in my brain, and realizing I hadn't finished yet. I was having trouble slogging through the molasses that encases me whenever I try to get anything done. And then, before finishing the message and pressing send, I somehow lost complete track of what I was doing, and my mind went on to something else. So, it never got sent.
Later that day, I could only laugh when I realized what had happened. The former "kid just like theirs" with the inattentive subtype couldn't even finish an email message of hope to these poor moms without getting so distracted that it never got sent, all because of the disorder.
But, there is some hope! I am almost done with this post, and I haven't had too rough a time. It really does seem to be phasic to me at times--the level of distraction I feel. (Let's just ignore the fact that I lost track of time while writing this post in a very classic ADHD-I way and will now be late getting to an appointment.)
Anyway, all of this is to say that with this blog, I have hopes to be consistent. I have hopes to go forward. To be daily. To not get distracted. To have this be one thing that I can do every day without fail.
Every morning. I'm going to write here in the mornings. First thing.
We'll see how it goes.