I got to bed at 1.30am last night, which is late, but is pretty early for a motzei Shabbat (Saturday evening) in the summer, when Shabbat goes out late and it takes time to tidy up, blog what happened during the day and have something to eat and just generally shift from “Shabbat mode” to “weekday mode” and then to “bed mode.” I didn’t fall asleep until after 2.30am, though. I did, however, manage to get up at 10.00am this morning, although not 8.00am when I first woke up and tried, and failed, to get up. The lack of sleep was perhaps partly due to ideas for a my novel, and now for a second novel (which I’m worried may be tasteless, but trying not to think about that for now). The second novel is very different from the first, but I’m trying to focus on one at a time.
Despite this, I struggled with writing (the first novel) today. I don’t know why, I just felt like I was wading through treacle. I felt drained, despite getting up early. I was not tired exactly, but it was hard to think. I was stuck in part of the novel that doesn’t really relate to my life and which is a necessary, but not terribly interesting part of the story, and I felt I was just spinning my wheels, trying to get through it to get to the next bit, even if I radically rewrite it in the redrafts. I think that’s the thing to do at the moment, just to press on and try to get the first draft finished as soon as possible and then see what work needs doing on it.
I probably wrote for about an hour and a half overall today, excluding lots of procrastination mixed in there. I think I wrote around 700 words, finishing the chapter and then reading back the finished chapter. I also did some restructuring of the chapter divisions in the plan for the book. I felt that I would have liked to have done more. I just feel negative about things today. I guess there are always going to be good days and bad days. The word count is about 26,000 which is pretty good. I’ve been told an average novel is 80,000 to 100,000 words, so I’m about a third of the way there, which matches where I am in my outline for the book.
I went for a thirty-five minute run, but I was sluggish there too. It was hard to get going, I was frequently short of breath and prone to aches and cramps. Still, I did my usual length run.
I did about thirty minutes of Torah study by myself and another forty-five with E. on Skype.
Despite achieving quite a bit, I think depression and uncertainty about my writing blended into general depression and uncertainty about my life today. It’s hard to be objective about things like my writing, my relationship, my position in the Jewish community… so many different things affect how I see those things. Sometimes I get terrified that my life is going irretrievably down the toilet; other times I feel more optimistic; but it is hard to tell which is objectively correct, if either. I wish everything didn’t have to be so hard for me.
In this regard, I’m glad I have therapy tomorrow, but I’m also very nervous about it. What if the therapist tells me I’m living my life wrong? OK, a therapist wouldn’t say that in so many words, but what if I’m left with the conclusion that I’m living it wrongly? I can’t see any better alternatives.
When I was trying to write, but procrastinating, I read about the shidduch system, the system of arranged blind dates in the Orthodox community by which people date, the system that I felt rather failed me (although as I’m happy with E., it’s good that it failed me, but I still have some resentment and feel like a second-class citizen generally). I don’t know why I keep looking for stuff that I disagree with about the Haredi world. Maybe it’s a sour grapes feeling. “Yeah, I may have failed to be a good Haredi Jew, but I don’t even want to be part of your dysfunctional society, so there!”
There are things I admire about the Haredi world: the close-knit supportive families forming close-knit supportive communities; the dedication to religion, Torah study and prayer. Yet the good is often inseparable from the bad: the hostility to outsiders, the obscurantism, the conformism. Unfortunately, if the demographic trends in the Jewish community continue, in a couple of generations most Jews will be Haredi. The Modern Orthodox don’t really get a look in these projections, for all that they’re a prosperous and well-educated (generally and religiously) minority at the moment.
I’m not sure why I’ve written so much about this (most of which I cut before posting), or why I’m thinking about it so much at the moment. There is a weird, “wanting to be accepted, but also not wanting to be accepted” feeling about it.
A shul friend emailed to check on me, which was nice. It’s moments like that make me feel more accepted into the community. And I will finish on that positive note.