Here I am again.  At a quarter to two in the morning, at work, awake, and on watch.  My job is to ensure the safety and health of my clients, my people.  I’m leaning a bit toward being of a philosophical mindset at this hour.  I wish I had some way to understand the disabled individuals I work with.  I want a way to view inside the mind, to understand what it is that is missing from his or her life that I can provide, or advocate to get provided.  I am a strong advocate for my people, and I take great pride in that.  Oh, I wish that was all that is on my mind at this hour, and I’m out of things to clean.  Cleaning usually helps keep my thoughts quiet.

I’m struggling with many decisions in life, and part of the struggle is my unwillingness to let go.  I want to be ready for the birth of my baby.  I want to be financially ready, with enough income from freelance writing to replace my now meager income from my day job.  I very recently took a step back at work, declaring I would only be available to work every other weekend.  I agreed to work extra hours on that weekend, but nonetheless I am only working somewhere between twenty and thirty hours every other weekend.

Since this change, I have been working hard at home applying for freelance jobs and working on a current contract.  I have a problem,  though.  I feel inadequate as a freelance writer; because I lack experience I find it difficult to apply for certain jobs with confidence.  Thursday I found the perfect freelance job that seemed to be ideally suited to my strengths.  I applied with as much confidence as I could, but I had no previous relevant experience to offer.  I still have not heard a single peep from that job, which in this digital age means it is a no go.  What do I need to say to convince someone to give me a shot?  Everyone starts somewhere.  I started freelance writing in a slightly more commercial, much less creative branch of things.  Now I need the creative.  To be prepared to stay home with my child, and to truly enjoy the freelance writing career, I need the creative writing, too.

I have a friend that says you are what you say you are.  She told me that if I say I’m a writer, then I’m a writer.  Although she states it very simplisticaly, I get what she means.  I have to think positive thoughts and I have to believe in myself.  Even as I write that, the tired phrase believe in myself, my brain is screaming at me that is so cliche.  No one successful really does that.  My poor brain and I probably won’t be coming to an agreement on that any time soon.

As I sit here at work, I know this is where I’m supposed to be.  I don’t doubt myself, my instincts, my knowledge here.  As I check on my sleeping people like a mom with a newborn, I know I am more than adequate for anything that may occur here.  Outside of here, once I leave work and become Mindy, the freelance writer, again, my confidence wavers.  But, you can’t gain seven years worth of knowledge and experience overnight.  Seven years I have done this type of work.  Freelancing is much newer for me than that, and I am sure I will get the knowledge and experience I need with time. 

Still, letting go is a problem.  I have been afraid of really spreading my wings because of my fear of falling flat on my face.  I have to let go of that fear.  I’m also having trouble with letting go of my current job.  I enjoy what I do to improve the lives of those unable to do for themselves.  I’m good at it.  There is no falling on my face here.  Lastly, another fear I need to release, is my fear of becoming completely reliant on my husband as my primary means of support. 

My very first post on this blog was about my divorce from Eva’s father.  It is firmly in my past, but obviously some things aren’t.  I had never trusted the entirety of my financial well-being to anyone before my former husband.  He had my complete trust, and he was our only source of income…for three months before he left with all save ten dollars.

My wonderful husband I am currently about to rely on even more heavily is a good man.  I don’t have a shred of doubt about him or his ability to provide.  This fear I have, though, doesn’t seem to know these things.  I have to let go.

So this week is going to be different.  I’m going to loosen my white-knuckle grip, and I’m going to let go.


One Reply to “Sleepless”

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