What really happened to me

Everyone has those moments. Making progress. Awesome things are happening. Reason to be excited and hopeful. And suddenly, you hit a wall. Everything just stops. Everyone has those moments. Right?

The last couple weeks of my life did not include live action role playing or pseudo-scientific experiments. I'm not John Locke; I didn't find a hatch or a smoke monster. I did not write any scenes where Professor Charles Xavier wore a powdered wig while the rebellious X-Men including Logan, Scott Summers, and Henry McCoy fought against the Red Coats. While I had fun writing out those four wildly improbable answers to explain away my sparse participation on the interwebs, the truth isn't so sparkly and fun.

I got stuck. I hit the wall and everything stopped. I still went to work and did everything I could to be a good boss and get my reports done. I still poured as much energy as possible into being an great dad. But when I was home, and everything was quiet, and I had time to write, I was stuck.

Truth is, I was paralyzed by fear. Because after the three little voices that make my world worth inhabiting went to bed, other voices started chipping in their unwanted worth. Some of them are very real voices that have faces and names. Some of it is nothing more than an inner dialog.

Voices telling me that I'm worthless. Incapable. A loser. Unreliable. Uninteresting. Uninspiring. All of it feeding into one of my greatest fears. That I'm insignificant.

At some point in the middle of all of this, the group formally known as The Start Experiment posted a challenge inspired by TWLOHA. To post a #FearVsDreams photo. This entry was mine:

And yet, for the past couple of weeks, I still allowed that fear be the loudest voice in my head.

When I got home from Cheyenne, I was stuck. There were tears and laughter on that trip. Joy and sorrow. Many hours in a car. Some less than desirable driving conditions. But the time there was freshening. I am extremely grateful for my parent's hospitality and the last minute transportation provided from cousins in Eastern Washington. I enjoyed seeing cousins and aunts and uncles that I haven't seen in a long time. And I was glad to spend some quality time with my brother, my sister-in-law, and their kids. Yet I still felt stuck upon my return.

I would try to write, but felt the only thing that I had to talk about was about my week in Cheyenne. In fact, I wrote a wonderful post based on some observations I had while driving through northern Wyoming that remains a draft in blogger because fear kept me from hitting the publish button. Afraid of being under-qualified to write about anything else. Afraid to write about topics that I really want to write about because I fear it might hurt some people's feelings. Afraid that it doesn't really matter what I write, because I'm insignificant.

Being a good dad? I can do that. A good employee? Sure. A good boss? I'll do my best. A good friend? Usually. A good blogger? Well, maybe. But not so far this month. I let fear win. And I desperately want to fight back.

Besides, that fan-fic idea actually sounds like a decent one. The Avengers, The Fantastic Four, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Guardians of the Galaxy using steam powered gadgets and the best fashion sense in all of literary history to help the good guys win the Revolutionary War? Please tell me I'm not the only one that thinks that would be an epic novel.