from bad to worse
Jun. 12th, 2006 06:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notesinbluebad night. really bad night.
nothing quite like feeling like a worthless piece of shit. i've tried and tried, both with my writing and my relationship, and they are both broken beyond repair.
i thought i tweeked this draft of my novel to my group's, and my, specifications. boy was i wrong. they want me to put half of it back the way it was...after they were the ones who said it needed to change. the other half? oh, that's just fubar. don't ask why, or how to fix it. it just is. revisions are supposed to improve a story, not break it. i hammered on that thing until i had crossed off my entire list of suggestions. i reviewed it and felt like it was really strong. i show up for workshop and i'm slammed with large level problems: the things i thought i fixed i didn't. other things that weren't mentioned in the previous draft are now bothersome when they weren't before. the changes i made to appease some concerns created new larger ones. and one of the major character rewrites i did (by suggestion) should be scrapped in lieu of what i had before. swell. gotta love feeling like you're being bitch-slapped with your own novel.
i hate the damn thing right now. hate. after i finished my last draft i was feeling really good, high almost. but now the thought of working on it, talking about it, hell, doing anything with it other than bury it in a dark hole, makes me feel physically ill. last week i was disappointed and frustrated by the response i received, but i chalked it up to a tense meeting. i took lots of notes, gave it some thought, and started trying to figure out how to remedy some of the problems (some of which i still don't see). but tonight...tonight i could not take. tonight made me feel like i should just scrap the whole damn thing and start over. or throw in the towel altogether. i haven't felt this shitty about a piece of my writing in a long time. it honestly feels hopeless.
and the icing on the cake? being fragile and upset from the above situation then having to listen to two of my favorite people talk about me like i'm not there. i didn't even get a chance to decompress. i just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball, but instead i ended up walking and listening to them talk until my feet blistered and my stomach went sour. it was a nice talk about J and his feelings. complete with his glorious testimony that our marriage ended in spirit six years ago and that he only stayed with me because he felt trapped. nice. really nice. so glad he married me since that's how he felt. let me tell ya, hearing that was just what i needed. really topped off my evening. hey, kick me a little harder while i'm down why don't ya? go ahead. i think you missed a spot.
i'm sure i could feel lower. it can always be worse. but i'm having trouble seeing it right now. right now i'm just so full of misery it's all i can see. and i was so happy two nights ago. the happiest i've been in a long long time. it doesn't seem right that i should now be so utterly miserable.
so yeah. bad night. bad fucking night.
nothing quite like feeling like a worthless piece of shit. i've tried and tried, both with my writing and my relationship, and they are both broken beyond repair.
i thought i tweeked this draft of my novel to my group's, and my, specifications. boy was i wrong. they want me to put half of it back the way it was...after they were the ones who said it needed to change. the other half? oh, that's just fubar. don't ask why, or how to fix it. it just is. revisions are supposed to improve a story, not break it. i hammered on that thing until i had crossed off my entire list of suggestions. i reviewed it and felt like it was really strong. i show up for workshop and i'm slammed with large level problems: the things i thought i fixed i didn't. other things that weren't mentioned in the previous draft are now bothersome when they weren't before. the changes i made to appease some concerns created new larger ones. and one of the major character rewrites i did (by suggestion) should be scrapped in lieu of what i had before. swell. gotta love feeling like you're being bitch-slapped with your own novel.
i hate the damn thing right now. hate. after i finished my last draft i was feeling really good, high almost. but now the thought of working on it, talking about it, hell, doing anything with it other than bury it in a dark hole, makes me feel physically ill. last week i was disappointed and frustrated by the response i received, but i chalked it up to a tense meeting. i took lots of notes, gave it some thought, and started trying to figure out how to remedy some of the problems (some of which i still don't see). but tonight...tonight i could not take. tonight made me feel like i should just scrap the whole damn thing and start over. or throw in the towel altogether. i haven't felt this shitty about a piece of my writing in a long time. it honestly feels hopeless.
and the icing on the cake? being fragile and upset from the above situation then having to listen to two of my favorite people talk about me like i'm not there. i didn't even get a chance to decompress. i just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball, but instead i ended up walking and listening to them talk until my feet blistered and my stomach went sour. it was a nice talk about J and his feelings. complete with his glorious testimony that our marriage ended in spirit six years ago and that he only stayed with me because he felt trapped. nice. really nice. so glad he married me since that's how he felt. let me tell ya, hearing that was just what i needed. really topped off my evening. hey, kick me a little harder while i'm down why don't ya? go ahead. i think you missed a spot.
i'm sure i could feel lower. it can always be worse. but i'm having trouble seeing it right now. right now i'm just so full of misery it's all i can see. and i was so happy two nights ago. the happiest i've been in a long long time. it doesn't seem right that i should now be so utterly miserable.
so yeah. bad night. bad fucking night.
