I was up until 3 a.m. writing last night. Sadly, all I can think about is how bad I'm sure what I wrote is. I'm beginning to think I don't have a tough enough hide to be a writer. I'm too sensitive to criticism. Or I think I'm right and ignore criticism. No middle ground for me.
I figure it's better to just do the writing and worry about criticism when it comes time for people to read. There has to be something to critique for me to get my feelings hurt in the first place. As great as five written pages might be, it's not even a chapter. It doesn't really even get the story started.
Interestingly enough, I went in an entirely different direction than the idea I worked on before. I touched on this idea once when I participated in an online group novel. I wanted a new storyline in that, so I started with a similar idea. The project soon died though, and my new story never went past an intro. I was much more committed to the main story in that project anyway00a collaboration with Ed #2. That piece still holds a special place in my heart, but it's furture ended with Ed.
So here I am today, in a different place with my alternate storyline. And maybe it will work. This new piece could be the sign I have moved on by myself. My writing and my life don't have to depend on anyone.
I found the letter from the state of Nebraska about requestion a review of child support. Just writing that sentence made my chest constrict and stomach flutter. I'm nervous about making the call. Obviously I haven't done it yet. I don't want to be a big ball of nerves when I do, but I'm a big ball of nerves just thinking about it. God forbid anyone view me as a bitch, even people that don't really matter. If I could have made X understand reason, I wouldn't have left him. And the people who handle it aren't likely to see me in a bad light either. They will probably wonder what took me so long.
I have to keep in mind I have been super-nice all these years. I never asked for more money even though X got a much better job a long time ago. I never made X pay support when we were separated. I never persued making him provide health coverage that is valid in PA or made him pay half of all copays and medical expenses like he is supposed to do. I even got nailed by him when he filed bankruptcy without warning after we separated, because everything fell to me. I wasn't getting a penny of support from him, but I was suddenly responsible for all our debt, including back electric and phone bills for the apartment in which I lived. I couldn't afford a divorce, so a court could make him provide support. So I was stuck. On my restaurant hostess salary because I was fired from my good job as a medical secretary when he would call and harrass me at work. I let it happen. I don't deny my role, but it was shitty on his part. Like so many things. Like even after the divorce he didn't pay child support until his wages were garnished. And there's the transformation into crap dad I noted before. I really have to remember what a bastard he's been. It's not like I'm even socking it to him, no matter what he or his wife think. It's time he be made accountable.
I'd made the call now, but during the course of writing, I had to pick up Hammy. I'm not waiting for him to get out of summer health class. He took initiative and signed up for this class so he could take another course during the school year. So I have reason to drag my ass out of bed for two weeks. I kind of like it. Except when I stay up until 3 a.m. writing. It always seems to happen that way, but nothing a giant cup of coffee didn't cure.
Funny how things change once I'm home. I always feel like making phone calls when I can't. I really hate making phone calls, so it seems like a fabulous idea when I'm not near a phone. I will do it, but I'm going to have some lunch first.
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One Year Ago Today:
