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Posts from the ‘Autobiography’ Category

Apr 1

8 Comments

Third Month’s The Charm

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This is what I had to say last month:

“I don’t have to think about every one of these every moment.  But they are with me nonetheless.  They travel through every day with me; they go where I go.  Things I need to do.  Things I need to do better.  Things I want to change about myself.  Things I don’t want to fail at.”

My resolutions did feel like a burden in February; not a burden I was willing to put down, but a weight to bear nonetheless.  I was unable to give equal focus to 12 different resolutions, and so I felt their individual needs for attention pressing down on me.

I think the heaviest weight was the weight of failure.  Or maybe the fear of failure, that I couldn’t do this. The fear that, since one or two things weren’t going so smoothly, then the whole thing would ultimately blow up in my face.  Because that’s what happens. continue reading…

Mar 21

15 Comments

Yesterday Was Simply Wonderful

True story.

My first photography class was in the morning.
And we learned about the exact thing that I most wanted to learn about.  And then I practiced it all day long.

I got my hair cut.
Every single one of them, actually.  

I had it all chopped off. continue reading…

Mar 8

26 Comments

It’s not all in my head after all.

So I had my follow-up doctors visit on Tuesday, and I finally know what’s wrong with me.

I was beginning to believe it was all in my head, especially because some days were not so bad.  Other times, though, I’m just dragging my bones through the day.  And I am also having periods when I can’t concentrate, when my mind wanders or just goes blank.  Not like I forget something blank, but not focused, devoid of thought.  That part is really weird for me, to just be a blank slate – I mean, I never stop thinking.  Until now, that is. continue reading…

Mar 7

17 Comments

Visiting Vicki

“You’re a resolution,” I said.
“Oh, I am?  Is that how I got you to come here so easily?”

Yep.

Actually, I mean to make this trip every year, but I never do.  Somehow the time rolls by, tumbling faster and faster, until the year is worn down to a little nub of a thing.  Sometimes it passes me by in a blur.  Other times I’m caught up in the tumult, whirling head over heals in the dust.  In the end, it all amounts to the same thing: I have not been the master of my own destiny. continue reading…

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