I've been feeling frustrated and depressed about my writing. I took a story I'd written for a Saturday WE prompt (where several people really liked it) to my real-life writing group and they panned it. Not only did they pan it, but they couldn't find anything at all redeeming in the story. Nothing. Basically they told me to burn it.
Okay. So I know there were issues with it. I'd really hoped there was something of redeeming value, but apparently not. The logical, adult thing to do would be to rewrite it, send it out and have someone want it at least for a online magazine. However, other frustrations in my life sort of sucked the creativity and heart out of me so I put it on the back burner.
I've been very frustrated with my home life. Most of it is my own darned fault but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. I'm ready to have an empty nest. The nest just isn't emptying.
We bought my BIL's house about 5 years ago with the idea of fixing it up and letting my daughter and her fiance live in it. Initially, everything was great, then hubby got mad because fiance wasn't working hard enough. So he quit working on it. I asked the children and they said they didn't know what to do and that hubby was mean and yelled at them. Hubby made a list of things for them to do that not even I knew how to do. Kids didn't work on it. Hubby got mad and yelled at me. Kids got frustrated and complained to me. Hubby got mad and yelled some more ... at me. You get the picture.
Got hubby working on the house again and asked my brother to powder coat the bathtub feet. He said okay. Then when I brought them over, he said "Softball seasons started. I can't do it until it's over." So no tub feet until the fall? Hubby got mad and yelled at me.
Fiance breaks up with daughter (he got another girl pregnant). Daughter freaks out and is now trying to pay all the bills for new house by herself. Missing meals in the meantime (which isn't necessary since she's living at home, could make her lunch but refuses to do so). I feel guilty anyway.
Daughter starts working on house a little but doesn't know what to do. Hubby yells at me because daughter isn't working on house. You get the idea.
I run a ferret shelter. I'm losing confidence in myself. I adopted out to a girl that I probably should not have adopted to. I expect her to disappear (with the ferret) any day now. God knows what will happen when she runs out of the food I forced her to buy for the ferret. She wanted to take it with no food. I visited her and the ferret is doing well (although it had dirty ears and long nails, which I took care of). Then girl says she's moving but she doesn't know where yet. I expect her to disappear, like I said, and then I can stay up at night worrying about the ferret.
Every time someone calls to tell me their ferret died or is sick, I feel it like a punch in the gut. I can't do what I do if I keep reacting like that. Today someone called wanting to adopt because her house had been broken into and all her possessions were smashed, and they killed her ferret. Another punch in the gut.
People keep making appointments and not showing up or calling. I can't tell you how many evenings I've spent tied to the house because someone was due to come and didn't show up. I usually have appointments every evening. I don't go shopping -- for food or clothes -- more than once every 3 months or so. Hubby does some food shopping but he gets mad because I don't.
I've been writing stories here on Gather. I have a few readers, and have gotten some good feedback. It's been a wonderful place to hide from my reality. Then a person I was going to collaborate with got mad and pulled out of the project. Okay, that was upsetting and frustrating, but I dealt. So I kept writing. Then another person wanted to collaborate, so we started making plans for that. Then she got mad and pulled out. Not mad at me so much as mad at other people around me.
So now I'm doubting my ability to write, doubting my ability as a shelter mom, feeling like a wretched wife, mother, housewife ... ARG! I know a lot of my issue is that I'm so bogged down in details that I haven't allowed enough creative outlet but at this point I'm feeling like something between a pariah and Typhoid Mary.
Other minor irritations include having my side mirror on the car smashed ... again. The dog cracked off my tomato plant at the base. God knows what she'll do to the rest of the stuff. I only have a few plants because I planted late and couldn't afford to buy the things at $5 a pop. I can't sleep a whole night due to *some* kind of ache or pain waking me up. I just got done with a big project at work -- something that should have taken 5 days and I pushed hard to get it done in the 2 days my boss allowed -- and my hands hurt. Hubby seems to be going through some kind of phase where he won't let me finish a sentence. He ignores me, interrupts, babbles on about everything under the sun. The house is hopelessly cluttered and dirty beyond my ability to organize. Just a lot of little things that feel like they're piling up on top of my head.
And then I walked into the room where hubby was putting in flooring (for me in my sewing room) and he's using my good scissors and rotary cutter to cut cardboard and carpet. When I saw him whack the rotary cutter on the edge of the heater vent I lost it and just came to write this post and cry.