I've done one week and yes a part of me feels fulfilled and proud and worth while, but I also feel a little uncertain. This uncertainty is rooted at a disbelief in myself I suppose but mainly my thoughts have staggered in regards to my latest couple of books, I'm slamming into a brick wall when in recent months I've been spinning almost out of control on a racetrack of inspiration. I hope it's just a combination of new nerves and tiredness, I can't let myself lose the flow I've gotten back. It's taken me such a long time to get back here.
I'm facing a crossroads in terms of where I put my energies and unfortunately I know which road is expected, necessary, sensible.
The other road is dangerous, potentially foolhardy, poverty riddled but its that road that's right. Simple. I know which way I should be walking but I'm going to do what I'm good at doing...ignoring myself and pleasing others. I'm not turning my back on Grace, I'm just putting the real world first and I hate myself a little for it.
It's only been a week, and I haven't spoken about this out loud to anyone, but I feel as if I've already lost part of myself. Don't judge me on that. It's just how I feel.