My therapist tells me that I have a train inside of me. I want to believe that's true.
She says that my ability to work around people's expectations and limitations (which must have developed in the last while, because I wasn't always this delicate) is a gift. I am able to, on the surfacte, supply what they need and take a back seat, doing the groundwork and subtly making suggestions until they notice I have skills. And she says that it's like a train inside of me. I'm patient but inside my heart, there's an engineer steering this thing, who knows - like a mother knows her child - that I have the skills to make this happen, and nothing is going to stop me from getting there.
It's a comforting idea - that I believe in myself so completely as to be charging like a train. On the surface, I feel like I waffle when it comes to faith in myself. "Is this good enough?" But I do see her point. It's been a long haul of career-building and heartbreak, and I don't even have a job that allows me to be a "creative" - a writer, a director. But still, I find myself pushing (if gently) closer, closer towards my goals.
And part of that, this year, has been the process of developing our animated series, Bubble Gumshoe. It hasn't been as constant as I'd like. When I'm exhausted, when I'm overworked, when I'm in self-doubt, I don't work on it as much. But when I'm taking good care of myself, when I'm choosing healthy routines and taking positive action, we move ever forward. No matter what, they're always there waiting for me... my patient husband-slash-writing partner... and the little characters we've sired, with whom we've fallen in love. We're nearly finished with the script for episode #2, and I kind of love it. And now I can say definitively that I have the chops to (co-)direct the eventual recording sessions, when we're ready.
This kind of boils down what the blog is about. I know in my bones that I have got to keep pushing myself down these train tracks. If I really look inside myself, I know I have what it takes. And I know what I have to do - I have to take care of myself, so that I can keep writing, because I have to share these projects that Tom and I are developing.
It's strange... I've been doing all of this so quietly. Tom, of course, is fully aware of everything. My therapist has been helping me shape it, too. But I seem to talk about it with so few others. I'm so focused on finishing the hat that I watch the rest of the world from my window. And that's where you come in, my blog readers. I am not a terrarium. I am not a self-contained system. I'm not even a train. I am a human, and I'm flawed. And I think I might need your support.