Yesterday, I realized that I couldn’t find a short story that I had written. I searched my entire computer for it. I knew the exact circumstances that I had used when I wrote it. I even shared it with my critique group and yet, I cannot find the story anywhere. I just don’t understand it. It is like having a dream, waking up, and then having that dream dissolve into the ether. I can’t understand it at all.
The worst part is that it makes me question myself. When I taught I felt sick all the time and even though I knew that I was good at teaching it just didn’t feel like I was in the right place. When I did accounting, I enjoyed it, but it was the same thing. I felt sick and like it wasn’t the right place. Now here I am writing, and it feels like I am going in the right direction, but at the same time, it feels like the worst time to get into writing with the changes in the industry and the beginning of AI generative work. I always feel like I don’t belong anywhere, and I still don’t.
I see other people and I wonder why I didn’t feel called to do something more concrete with my life. I know I shouldn’t compare, but sometimes I just feel lost like I am constantly trying to find my way and I just can’t get there. It’s no wonder that my favorite story is Sisyphus.
I just know that the only thing I can do is pray for God to continue to guide me.
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
