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On track train of thought, finished sentences

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Daily writing prompt
What do you enjoy most about writing?
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In response to this prompt, I started thinking about how when you have a group of people conversing, you inevitably have those overlaps where two people talk at once, or someone interrupts another. You don’t always get to finish what you were saying.

Other times, the subject veers suddenly elsewhere before you add what you were going to say about the current one. You usually just let that comment go if it’s not that important to bring the subject back to it. Sometimes you lose your train of thought when waiting your turn to speak or when the subject changes, and the thought is gone like a fart in the wind. Don’t you hate when that happens? Probably happens more to the over 40 folks. Am I right?

Sometimes you have the really gabby person that doesn’t let anyone else get a word in, always talks about themselves, and then they change the subject. I have a certain family member like that. Fortunately, most people I talk to are pretty decent and I have learned to add more than I once did. I was very quiet when I was younger.

So, this isn’t meant as a complaint list about how well people converse or socialize. Its about the ability that writing gives you to take an inspiration or idea, follow the train of thought and flesh out the details. And you can do it all without interruption or vying for attention. (Unless your own thoughts get ahead of you and you have trouble focusing, as can happen when a really big idea hits you and you get all excited. Like when your writer’s block on that story or script finally breaks.)

I think for introverts, it’s also less distracting to write than to talk it out. You become one with the keyboard, or pen and notebook, whatever your medium of choice is. It may be easier to enter the zone for some of us introverts, when we write. We’re used to being alone with our thoughts.

It’s a direct outflow of ideas and creativity. It can be very cleansing, especially when writing just for yourself, like a journal. Perhaps that’s the most enjoyable form of writing because you don’t have to worry about any pushback, opinions, or offenses. (Unless someone invades your diary, but then how are they going to complain about something you said, right?)

Perhaps the worst part of writing is facing a blank page, but tonight’s page filled right up after a moment of thinking, thanks to this prompt. Whatever form you enjoy, keep writing!

What might have been, pt 1

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This topic is inspired in part by a writing prompt from WordPress that suggested writing about your life in an alternate universe and another blogger’s accurate statement that “Some words lose their meaning when spoken too late.” (https://thebrokenspecs.wordpress.com/?_gl=1*adzjkd*_gcl_au*MTI1NzMwMTYxNC4xNzUwMjA3NDcx) That made me think about not just things you didn’t say, but things you did that you shouldn’t have or things you didn’t do that you wanted or needed to do and what a difference it could have made in your life. Of course, it’s a slippery slope if you start regretting and rethinking everything, so let’s not do that.

Instead, let’s think about lessons we’ve learned and how we might apply them in our lives at the present moment or the near future to affect positive change. Sometimes, looking back, in the context of finding your path forward can be healthy, if done in a positive context and frame of mind.

I used to sometimes cringe with anxiety when a memory of something done or said wrong, or left unsaid or undone, came bubbling right up to the surface of my mind. I’m happy to say that doesn’t happen anymore. I’ve learned to give myself a break when I remember those things. I know I did the best I could have, and I’ve learned tremendously from my experiences. I’m a stronger, healthier and more content person because I’ve always striven to learn and improve on myself. It starts with being honest with yourself. I’ve always been good at that. When I was younger, I was a little too honest with myself creating self-consciousness and anxiety and causing me to be too hard on myself. I’m sure I’m still my own worst critic as many of us are, but it’s a lot more balanced and tempered with more self-acceptance and confidence. I’ve seen some pretty awful people and a whole lot of middling folks who just don’t try very hard or just don’t care very much about others. And a lot of sociopaths. So yeah, I’m a pretty kind, talented, and likeable guy and I finally get that. So, this isn’t about beating oneself up, but looking for growth and direction.

So, what’s a good example? Hmmm. When I was in high school, I thought many times about joining drama club and trying out for a play. I did finally do it in the spring of my senior year, the last chance to do so. I’m glad I did that and didn’t have to regret not even trying. I was really good at the auditions and everyone said so. I was later told I had stage presence. But when you’re not one of the popular people in a small town, you don’t always get what you deserve.

I don’t remember the details, but I was being considered for the lead role, which included a kiss with the female lead. I remember walking into a class where the female front runner was talking to a friend and overhearing her say something about she would have had to kiss Mark Ritchey. (The horror!) I ended up with a three line part that added nothing to the play. In fact, when I quit in disgust after a couple rehearsals, they didn’t even reassign the part to anyone. They just cut it. I never found out exactly what went on behind the scenes, but I felt cheated and it was discouraging.

I still thought about acting for years after that. I thought about trying out for a play when I was attending community college and even stopped to get a script and met the professor directing the play. His office was right next to the media lab and main classroom of the communications program I majored in. Unfortunately, I didn’t follow through. I used the somewhat understandable excuse that I was too busy.

I still though about for years after, and I went to an audition for a short film at another college several years later. I didn’t get it, but I then took an acting class at Civic Theater of Allentown and had a blast. That’s where I was told by the teacher, and director of Civic, that I had stage presence. I didn’t pursue any auditions at Civic, but I made a friend in the class that I’m still friends with 20+ years later, and I started volunteering at the theater and worked for them for a while. I also founded a filmmaking group with the friend and others which I was involved with for years and produced a short film that I wrote.

So, I didn’t become an actor, but I acted on an interest. Instead of wondering what might have been, I got to see what did happen instead. Sure, there was disappointment and I didn’t do everything I had thought about (the play at community college), but it wasn’t the deep regret of total inaction. I made an effort.

Failing patience, fading empathy

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I find myself getting impatient with my elderly mother more quickly and more frequently than I used to. She has always been an extreme worrier, engaging in catastrophizing and panic, always assuming the worst, sometimes imagining well beyond the worst-case scenario fearing things that there’s basically no chance will be the outcome of the situation. It started getting considerably worse in the fall of 2022 and continues to be so. It may be a side effect of a medication or her age exacerbating things, but the increase of problems started about the time my dad’s fight with cancer started taking more of a toll. He was gone six months later.

My mom and dad were married 56 years and when you include dating and engagement, were together for just about 60 years. I understand that her anchor was gone and she felt more vulnerable. I did a lot of things to help her with everyday personal business like making calls with her to Social Security, insurance companies, then renewing said insurance, and transferring the van and getting a new handicapped plate, checking her math when balancing the checkbook. All things she knows how to do but hadn’t been doing them for a number of years.

I also made improvements to her physical environment. I had replaced a bookshelf a year or so earlier and still had the old one, so I took it to her and made room for it, put it in place and moved the books and other items to it. I also gave her a little corner shelf that I hadn’t been using for a while and helped get that in place and found a little side table that would work next to her couch better than what was there already. I didn’t even realize it, but the table had been my dad’s before they met, so she really appreciated having that.

It seemed like things were improving, and indeed I think she was coping well for a number of months of the first year without my dad, but then she started to say she felt “blue” more often when I asked how she was. It felt like my efforts were all in vain. Like no matter how much I did, it wasn’t enough and she just kept doing worse. She wasn’t oblivious to this decline in mood and in fact, talked to the nurse practitioner at her primary care and they tried her on an antidepressant for a while but that only seemed to make her worse and it was stopped.

After a while, it seemed like her mood leveled off to some degree, enough to cope and find enjoyment in things, but the worrying and panic got worse. It’s very draining to have several calls a week from your mother, who was so strong and wise when she was raising you, in a state of panic because she got some strange call or text on her phone. Like a scammer can somehow ruin your life even if you don’t respond to them.

I tell her to think about what would be the worst that could happen and it’s not going to be as bad as her initial fear-filled reaction has her thinking. And even if the worst happened, she’d get through it. I guess she doesn’t see it as a choice, how you react to something. It’s been an automatic response for so long that she must feel like she can’t control it and that it’s something that just happens, not of her own volition. Maybe that’s true to some degree because it’s hard to retrain your brain when you’re in your 80’s. But I think there’s always room for improvement if the effort is made.

What’s funny is that I used to be so patient that I’ve had people tell me that I have the patience of a saint. In fact, there was more than one occasion when I worked in retail that the next person in line would say so after I finished with a difficult customer. But in the last 6 or 7 years, the harassment that I’ve mentioned in other posts, has eaten up any patience, tolerance, or forgiveness, and even empathy that I had in me. I could easily do a whole post just on that point, but this one is about trying to be there for my mom.

I think the solution is to talk about things on a regular basis and specifically about managing fear and anxiety, to plan for the moments that spark intense worry and be ready for it; to have coping strategies and specific actions to take. Calming imagery or memories, music, inspiring quotes, and mindfulness. I don’t think that’s a concept that anyone ever taught her, but it’d be very helpful to stop and think, observe and then proceed with caution.

It’s always better to get out in front of an issue than to wait till something happens that’s harder to deal with. Of course, that’s easier said than done. But most things worth doing are. I know that my mom is a strong and intelligent person and that God has given me a good heart, patience and kindness. I’ll just have to keep any situational irritability out of the equation and be true to myself and see the strength and ability in her that has always been there. You’ve got to stick together with family and help one another in love. Same goes for friends.