I’m afraid of how rusty I am.
I want to start writing again but I’m dreading getting back into it. I’m sure I’m too rusty. Writing? Again? Every day?! I tell myself Forget it, the rust is too much! So I do. I forget.
Until I remember. I really want to start writing again.
The cycle starts over. Forget, remember, forget, remember. Meanwhile nothing gets written and I feel stuck.
I used to write every day. Now that sounds like a huge accomplishment, but back then it was just routine. Same with running. Before training for a marathon, I felt like I deserved a parade any time I ran longer than a mile without stopping or crying or falling in a ditch. The more I did it, the easier it got. Toward the end of training I could see a 4 mile run on the schedule and be grateful that it was an easy day. AN EASY DAY?! Now look at me! If I tried to run 4 miles today, all my bones would crack like cornflakes.
Why is getting back into the swing of things harder than starting to swing the first time? Getting back on the horse feels like it takes more effort than the initial hop in the saddle. Why? It’s the same horse! I know this horse. We’ve met. We used to be great together. Why isn’t this easier?!
I’m dreading the effort it’s going to take to get things back to how they used to be. I’m not looking forward to how many times this used to be easier will fly across my thoughts. I’ll lecture myself, If you hadn’t given up you would be so much further along than you are now.
That’s the problem: if I’m actually going to start over, I have to forgive myself for quitting in the first place. If I can’t do that, I’m going to see every obstacle as some sort of punishment. This is what you get, idiot! If someone else talked to me that way all the time, I wouldn’t want to be around them much, would I? But because I’m my own bully, I’m stuck with this jerk sidekick in the back of my thoughts all the live long day.
Is that why I’m doom scrolling through Instagram? Am I avoiding myself? If I keep scrolling, I stay distracted. And if I’m distracted, I’m not saying mean things to myself about all the things I should be doing. My day becomes about how to keep my bully happy instead of actually doing the things I need to.
And the rust grows stronger. I’m stuck.