I’ve been beating myself up about not finishing my stories. Apparently it is a bad habit beginning with growing up with a dysfunctional family, at least according to the family therapy experts. I didn’t learn the skills to plan and complete basic tasks, which has influenced my laxity about not wrapping things up and knowing how satisfied it is doing so. It all has to do with the lack of self-confidence and low self-esteem. {insert heavy sigh} So, being who I am, I’m working on righting the wrongs by revisiting all the half-finished, almost done stories I’ve written so far. I’m kind of alarmed to admit there are a lot of them. So, here I am, blogging about it. Feeling guilty about it. Not knowing why it happened or how to fix it.
The thing is, that I do finish what I begin in other areas of my life. I have completed other stories, many poems, and a gazillion other tasks, so what’s the deal here?
I’m not sure but knowing the problem leads to finding a solution. Maybe I just need to stick with one thing at a time. Creatively speaking, I am a bit whimsical and improving my focus will get me to accomplish more that I’ve been. Right? Right.
See you on the pages, then.