If You Don't Fall, You're Not Learning.

*When I was twelve, my snowboarding instructor told me "If you don't fall, you're not learning."
It's stuck with me through all these years.*

Hi y'all. Hi NaBloPoMo. Did you miss me?

No?

Well, I guess it was only yesterday that I copped out. That doesn't give much time for the heart to grow fonder.

Well, I missed you.

I stayed up all night thinking about what I had done. Questioning my decision to back down in the face of adversity. That's not really me. To be fair, I stand by my not wanting to post a bunch of crap that I really don't care about on my blog, but seriously. I just can't throw my hands up and walk away when the going gets tough.

I mean, I'm a single mom, for Chrissake. I would never give up on that. I'm a caregiver to an elder. How would that have gone down, after a few months of being here and realizing how fucking tough that job is, to just walk away? "Sorry, grams. I know I told you I'd help you stay in your home as long as possible, but I didn't realize how hard it was going to be. If I can't do it perfectly, I don't want to do it at all. See you around."

C'mon. I can hardly bring myself to write that, let alone do it.

I'll give you the shirt off my back if I love you. I'll bend over backwards making sure you have what you need to be happy, healthy, and comfortable. I'll push my own needs aside for you.

That's all fine and good, but I need to do those things for myself too. I tend to give up on the things that are important to me, simply because I'm too fucking busy doing things for everyone else, and I don't have the time or energy (or divinity) to do it perfectly, the first time around. I don't like fucking up. Especially not in public. And that's not cool. It kind of stands in the way of being open and learning.

NaBloPoMo was important to me because I set myself a goal that I knew would be difficult. Attainable, for sure, but out of my comfort zone.I've enjoyed being forced to think of things to post about every day. I've loved writing every day. I may have grumbled, but I knew I was working towards that goal. And dammit if some of that stupid novel that's been writing itself in my head, but nowhere else, hasn't been rearing it's (ugly) head. That was exciting, even if it does read like a damn harlequin romance right now. Sigh. It'll get better. That's the whole point of writing every day.

So anyway, here's me, copping out on copping out. I'm gonna make spelling and grammatical errors that I may not catch right away (omg I think I just threw up a little bit), and my blog may look like a scratch pad for the next twenty-two days, but damn if I'm gonna give up on this.

Wish me luck. And finely honed editing skills.