I REMEMBER the adrenaline rush when the idea of having my own weekly column came up way back 2008. It made me realize that prior to life being a little bit more complicated with work, and parenthood, and trying that thing called "adulting," writing is and has always been my first love.
My journey in this couch has been very good, meaningful, colorful. For the next eight years since my pilot article (?) it has become my refuge: a way to deal with life’s challenges, a license to discuss even the weirdest things and observations without really caring how you are judged (as has been said, “Writing is an acceptable form of schizophrenia...”), a toilet paper to my mental diarrhea on a weekly basis, a venue to air my sarcasm and disgust for some things (or people?) annoying.
Mid-2016 I found myself overwhelmed with seemingly so many duties and obligations. In my entire 41 years of existence I have never been easily overwhelmed but this time I was, and the idea itself that I was overwhelmed was enough for the stress levels to shoot up. I found myself in the middle of – or more aptly, in charge of – a considerably busier, seriously understaffed workplace. I found my life taking a 360-degree turn to day 1 of being a mother to a newborn child once again, at the same time raising three strong-willed warrior princesses, one of whom is no longer at home but exploring the independence and likewise dealing with the anxieties of college life. Worrying is not my thing, and I didn’t want it to start being my thing. And then I suddenly found myself not having anything good, or even bad, to write about. I haven’t read for the longest time, I haven’t watched a full movie for ages, I haven’t even watched the final six or so episodes of The Vampire Diaries final season. What is happening to the world?
And now I’m bickering, whining, amused, surprised, somewhat lost... but suddenly glad I am putting it all in writing.
I miss my couch. There, I finally said it out loud.
Time and again I have pep-talked myself, saying I should just give it up, that I do not have the time to do this anymore.
But as with all things that matter, you may not always have the time, but you need to make time for it.
I am not even sure if this will still have its space, but if you see it in print then the odds are still in my favor.
serendipity.couch@gmail.com