In a Fog ROW80 February 2

I have been in a fog for more than a month, and I cannot seem to find my way out of it. I am taking baby steps, but cannot seem to get everything done that I would like to do.

I am moving forward personally, but not managing to write or reply to comments.  I feel that I am losing my community by not pulling my weight, which distresses me mightily. One post that helped me today was:

I saw a very good “what not to do” post about negativity here.  I think there are many points to ponder and write about in this list. Thank you to Karen McFarland for pointing me to that link. Luckily, I don’t do all of these things.  I do have clear directions for other behaviors to root out of my brain, though.

  1. Meditate for no less than ten minutes a day. Yes.  It has been a sanity saver for me.
  2. Find gratitude for at least one thing every day. Again, something that I need to do, and I have been successful.
  3. Return to the daily habit of at least 250 words a day. Not yet.  
  4. Never sit when I can stand, never stand when I can pace.  Stand for at least 5 minutes every hour; pace for at least 5 minutes every hour; walk for 5 minutes every 2 hours. Yes, with the added benefit that I dropped ten pounds since October.
  5. Contact every extended family member on their birthday. Blush. I’m behind on a paper card to my 5 year old granddaughter.  It’s so much easier with people on FB. Sigh.
  6. Reply to comments on blogs within two days. Nope.  My apologies to everyone.

I’m still fighting the after-effects of surgery, and clawing my way back to normal. I’m down, but not out!

A crucial part of ROW80 is the community support. Please go check out some of the other participants here.

15 thoughts on “In a Fog ROW80 February 2”

  1. I’ve been in those fogs a few times, so I get it. Just do the best you can. Visit us when you can. Comment when you can. And, yes, take baby steps. A little at a time. We’re always here. 🙂

  2. Little steps… For your granddaughter’s card… spend a bit of time walking in the shop, finding something. Then write a sentence or two the next day. Then maybe draw a little picture… have some fun… use crayons. Add glitter glue… share your inner child with her?

    Just some thoughts thinking about the cards that the Boodle loves most from his grandmas….

    As for the rest… Visit when you can. If you’d like a quiet small sandwich, tea and writing visit, I’m often available for those 250 words. Or… maybe writing to any goal is too much at the moment. Maybe your ROWnd needs to be less about the words than about being…

    Just glad to know you’re okay. And >HUGS<

    1. Eden, your advice is good for all of us. Sometimes even grownups need a blank piece of paper and some finger paints. Being silly is good for us, and sometimes, as we grow older and the world weighs on us, we forget to nurture our inner child. I’ll be taking your words to heart.

      1. Thanks, Denise. I wish I could say it was my idea; my husband reminds me daily of the need to share ourselves with joy and silly (I’m a lucky camper).

        I passed along your note.

    2. Eden, thank you for the great idea about the birthday card. I have nearly hidden my inner child from myself, much less the grandkids, so it will be fun to let her free.

      I appreciate the offer for a sandwich and writing visit. I will definitely take you up on that soon. Hugs to you, too!

      1. Our inner children like to have time to play. If they don’t get it, they can be oh so very sullen…. I hope you can find time with yours before it gets to bribes of cake and chocolate.

  3. Don’t worry, the ROW80 community isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Just put your health front and center and focus on that for the time being. Our health–physical, mental, emotional, and even spiritual–is foundational to everything else in life, including our art and creativity.

    Here’s hoping you will be back on your feet very soon. In the meantime, give yourself permission to rest and take it easy. Good luck, Elizabeth!

  4. Hi Elizabeth!

    I want to reach out and send you a great big virtual hug right now! {{{{{Hug!}}}}] There! That’s better. So listen. I am so sorry that you’ve been undergoing such a difficult situation like this. I had no idea that you had surgery. Where have I been?

    May I please share something with you? First of all, the anesthesia from being put out during surgery is most likely still in your system. That in itself takes months to go away. And it can cause a number of symptoms including a foggy brain, depression, lethargy, etc. My DH had two surgeries in 2012. It was ruff. And the stress that your precious body has gone through can contribute to this also. Another author reached out to me during this whole ordeal with my hubby and I have to say how much I appreciated his support. He told me that when he went through a very difficult time in his life, he was unable to write. Nada. Nothing. And that’s what happened to me. Our bodies can only take so much. Especially when you are still in a healing period. We need to give ourselves permission to take a step back. You’ll get better. And so will your ability to write. I promise!

    So then, what can I do to help? I ask this in all sincerity
    Please take care of yourself and listen to your body. Just know that your are missed! 🙂

    1. Thank you for your kind offer, Karen. As to where you were–you were dealing with your own stress, which is perfectly understandable. Your support is a great help to me, and is much appreciated. If I think of something you can do beyond that, I’ll ask–I promise!

      Also, your poor husband–and poor you! It’s not easy to go through all of the stress associated with surgeries and the resultant path back to health. {{Hug}} to you both! It helps to know that I’m not the only one to stare at blank pages when I’m stressed. 🙂

  5. Rest, relax, take care of yourself. That’s the main thing. Everything else comes second. Experience of pain and setbacks might feed into our writing and enrich it, but it’s not a good time for writing itself. The boring life is the best for actual writing. So wait until you’re well, do whatever you have to do to get there, and once your life is comfortable again, get back to writing.

    We’ll be there when you come back.


    1. Thanks for the hugs, Ruth. I’m not a very good patient, so I have to learn to take it slow and let myself heal. Your point that this is not the time to write is a good one. I am just insecure enough to think that my muse had fled the premises forever, so your reassurance is very timely and helpful as well. Hugs back!

Comments are closed.