The Will to Write

 “Get it down. Take chances. It may be bad, but it’s the only way you can do anything really good-  William Faulkner

 I blogged the other day about how my mind-set has changed, how I no longer regard Roch as a dying man. When I began this blog on 24^th  March 2010 I wrote:

“Ok so now I've started. I'm a blogger! I've decided to blog about my life, specifically since my husband was diagnosed with MND last June. For those of you who don't know, MND stands for Motor Neurone Disease. It's a progressive degenerative neurological condition (what a mouthful) and at present he is 'living with it' but we all know it'll get him in the end. He calls it 'The monkey on his back'. If anyone ever asks me 'Which living person do you most admire?' I will tell them 'My husband, Roch.' He knows this. I've told him. He is the bravest person I know.”

Well, he’s still the bravest person I know, so that hasn’t changed, and it’s going to get him in the end, all right. But that was six years ago and we went into this thing thinking we had very little time left together. You know what? We were wrong. I don’t want to get complacent but I realise that I need to stop telling myself that my stuff can wait. In my head there’s a date, a time I call ‘l-a-R’ time. That’s ‘life after Roch’ time. I told myself that when the worst happened, I would be able to concentrate on my writing, that it would be my consolation, something all my own to hang onto for dear life. Now I realise that I can’t put it off and use Roch’s illness as an excuse any more. I need to get on with it, rejoice that he is still here, very much alive and accept that I must weave my writing through and around our life with MND with purpose and intent.  After all, as my mother once told me, “Cheer up, you might die before him, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Ah,  there’s nothing like a mother’s comfort.

The Will to Write

There are days when I wake early and Roch doesn’t need me yet. I lie in bed and allow inertia to take over. I feel exhausted but sometimes I do get up early. Sometimes on those days I stare at the blank page, bleary eyed and with an aching head. The pages of my notebook are full of self-pitying entries, negative thoughts where I berate myself, interspersed with attempts at self-encouragement:

March 24^th 2015 Five years from First post

"Feeling low today. I never dream about flying anymore. I feel like I have little direction, just emptiness and sadness. I feel like I could be more to him. The worse he gets, the more distant I feel from him. I wish I could get down to more writing. Wishing isn’t doing, I guess. Same old, same old. What changes do people see in him? Neck brace, struggling for breath at times when speaking. I feel like I don’t help when he lacks motivation. I’m busy, busy, busy all the time. I need to sit quietly with him more. Ah well, at least I can say I bring him to football. And meanwhile where is my life going?"

May 13^th 2015

"Desperate to write something good, something successful. I long for those sessions of writing clarity, when the words flow and you know what you’re doing! I cast around for ideas. I spend more time reading about writing than I do writing. I keep telling myself to stick to a schedule. Do a few hours every morning. In the meantime I write horrendous poetry (but is it horrendous? Is it?) and FAFF ABOUT!Fact: I have had SUCCESSES!!Fact: People like my writing!Fact: Spending too much time on twitter and Facebook.Note to self: Put phone away when writing." 

June 4^th 2015

"No writing, that’s right, begin with a negative. Hospice Nurse came today. I miss D. Felt under pressure to respond as the dutiful wife (Inside I’m screaming). So, not possible to be completely honest. Note to self: explore this with Monika. Where is he to die? Hospice or Home? His use of the word “burden”. Do I make him feel like a burden? Shifting the mind-set…I am very much in my own version of MND world today."

Here’s a good one:

21^st January 2015

"I’m excited that after my entry here yesterday, I opened up the laptop and wrote a story for a competition. It feels good. It made me cry (how very self-indulgent of me). It was C---- at the door which was just as well, as he wouldn’t have noticed a thing! I sent him away as Roch was still sleeping. My story is about a quilt. It has elements of truth all wrapped up in some pretty strong fiction. I’m very happy with it.”

That story didn’t get anywhere in that competition, so I’ve recently entered it into another. It would be lovely if it was longlisted, shortlisted – won! But even if it doesn’t appear on a list anywhere, I love it and I loved writing it.I ask myself the question: What do I need to be happier in this life? I know the answer to my question. Set time aside to write.

“Folks are usually about as happy as they make their minds up to be.” - Abraham Lincoln

I do find the 'twittersphere' great for picking up motivational quotes. But time to put the phone away now...