I can't sleep, and as I lie in my humid room desperately trying to, my mind turns to all sorts of funny things. They are peculiar thoughts, more often than not things that haunt me.
I have a bad (occasional) habit of talking to myself. Well... not so much talking, but mild mumbling things out loud. In a previous "Unforgotten Few" post I remarked about talking to myself on the toilet about a script idea. Tonight, as I have done over many an evening, I find myself saying the names of ex-girlfriends out loud - for no specific reason, other than hearing their names, as if that is a comfort to myself.
It got me thinking tonight, about mistakes. I've no idea where this post is going, but I want to address, and get off my chest, some mistakes that I feel I've made in this life.
It was all going so right... when I was 8.
I was doing what every 8 year old writer should be doing; chiefly, writing every day, passionately. Then, for reasons I've long since forgotten... I stopped. It took me a year or so to pick up my pen again, only this time things weren't the same anymore.
I think I'd gotten lazier. Hmm. Maybe I'm being overly critical of myself. I don't think the change was deliberate. It's just... I was now a year or so older, and still writing one page stories - stories that often were a paragraph long, at best. They were not planned out, even though I was now old enough to know to plan a story. I wanted to write things quick, so that I reached my end goal of having "something" complete (an episode/a season/an entire series of stories).
Going into my teens, I knew that I should have been writing longer stories... but I never really had the drive to start them, let alone finish them.
Nowadays, I barely write at all - but know that I should. It's the greatest shame of my life.
The mistake here is plain and simple: I picked the wrong university to attend.
In hindsight, I should have been far more ambitious in my choice, and not just slumped for the lazy choice. It lead me to getting a poorer education than I should have done, and missing out on so many experiences.
Check out this post for more on this.
You know, sometimes it feels like I've let them down. Not through my actions, per se... but through my interactions with them. Until recently, I was more than a little emotionally disconnected from them. Beyond pleasantries, I didn't make much of an effort with anybody. I certainly wasn't a typical son, brother or cousin!
I think that's changed now that my nephew and nieces are here, but it doesn't forgive all those years of not being a greater part of my family's lives.
Pfft. You know all this already. I've certainly blogged about it enough!!!
See here, and here, here, here, here, here, here and here! (Plus, many, many more!!)
Go read them. I don't need to get into this again here!!
I grew up in a working class background, and had the middle (or even upper) class on my back since birth. They taught me at school. They were my superiors at work. My dentist. My doctor. Everybody in a position of authority was of a higher social standing than me, that sometimes even I came to look at what me and my family had wasn't as significant as others.
This all lead to a massive dent in my confidence. How could I be the most confident person in the room... when I felt the most worthless?
These days, I enjoy bringing middle class folk down a peg or two. I realised I'm no less important than them (despite what they might think...!) All in all, I regret not being more confident from a younger age - because ultimately we live just one life. Why live it in hiding?
As you can imagine, there's a lot more than the above - but I think it gives a big enough insight into what goes through my mind every day, and the weight I carry.