September 28, 2010

Getting Back Six Hours

Today I arrived at my orthopaedic surgeon's office with a folder full of grading to complete. I finished all but three speeches. That's how long he typically makes me wait. Usually I am accompanied by Lil C who puts on quite a concert in the exam room, but today Mr. BBM kept her at home while he worked. He read my blog post of yesterday and I'm pretty sure he knew I needed some "me" time. Funny that the only "me" time I get right now is waiting to be poked and prodded by a doctor, huh?

My surgeon came in and examined my leg as usual. He took a bunch of notes, and then asked me what I want to be able to do, activity-wise.

"I want to be able to go back to karate," I said. And then, because my PT told me it's a possibility, "I'd also like to be able to play tennis again."

He nodded, talked to me about my braces, and told me to get to a track and start running three times a week. Sure, I'll do that. In all my spare my time. He told me two weeks of running, followed by two weeks of agility stuff can get me back to tennis in four weeks. I'm thinking I'd be totally cool with being able to play tennis next summer.

Then he told me I can stop going to PT and just get to the gym three times a week instead. I was hoping to be released from PT, but not fully expecting it. Yesterday I was able to get my heel stretched to my butt again for the first time in a long time. Tomorrow will be my last day there.

Yesterday I had no time to do a thing; today I was given back about six hours a week. Those six hours happen to be when Lil C is in school. Coincidence? A sign not to give it up?

When I came home from campus today, Mr. BBM was dealing with me with kid gloves. I didn't know he had read my blog post. So we started talking about it and I got upset. This is what it boils down to. . . I am a super competitive person. I like to be the best at everything I do. Ask anyone who has ever played me in a simple game of beer pong. I don't like to lose and I don't like to hang out in the middle. I either do it right, or I do it right. There are no other options.

That's why this whole knee business has been so mentally trying for me. It's why being on the board of directors at the club has frustrated me so much. I've been held back and limited physically and by other people, and I don't like it one bit. Sometimes, although those of you know who know me may find this difficult to believe, I just get tired of fighting all the time. It's exhausting.

One of my friends said something on my Facebook page today that made me really sit up and take notice. I've lost so many of the things that define who I am: karate, tennis, being that girl who can jump in and play any sport she chooses. Right now I'm nothing more than a stressed out Mom and a teacher with too much stuff to grade and too many lessons to plan. With my writing though, it doesn't matter if my knee is banged up. It is the one thing I have that is all mine, and hasn't been taken away from me. So why am I not happy with it? Why would I consider stopping it when I haven't reached where I want to go with it yet?

I'm not happy because I want to write more. I'm not happy because I want to find an agent and a publisher and do amazing things. I'm not happy because I sent a book proposal over a year ago and haven't heard anything back yet. I'm not happy because I simply don't know what to do about any of these things I'm not happy about. I have no clue how to get an agent or how to get my blog syndicated more than it is right now. I don't know how to grow it and get my writing out there. I really don't even know where to start.

It feels like standing on the edge of a giant trash heap and being told to find that one lonely paper clip. I don't have time to be misguided. I don't have the energy or the time to send out query after query to the wrong people. And it's not like people who are published are telling people like me their secrets. There is a giant brick wall and on one side are those who have made it to the publishing world; I'm on the other side with the ones who are dying to be published, but we simply can't figure out how to get over that wall.

I have had a post from this blog published and I was paid nicely for it at the time. But that editor found my post when she was out searching for writing on a certain topic. I didn't approach her. I've been syndicated and published in other places. An entire page of my resume has my publishing credits on it, but the gaps between them are spreading out and I need and want more.  Every once in a while, I'll buy myself the new Writer's Market book, send out a bunch of queries, articles and manuscripts and then I wait months at a time as I watch rejection letters roll in, and that is if they even bother to tell me they're not interested. There has got to be a better way. Someone has to know someone. Someone has to be able to point me in the right direction.

If my readers keep coming back for more of my drivel, there has to be some agent out there who would like it too right? I've been told that if you don't have an agent, there is no point in even trying to contact a publisher. There has to be a way to break into that world; and today I was handed back two mornings of my week to try to find it. I can't give up; I just have to find a way to make this happen more efficiently. I have to, because that's just what I do.

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Posted by on September 28, 2010 in Mental Strain for Mama | 4 Comments

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