The Wind Tunnel In My Head

soheresmystoryblog

There are so many thoughts, words, incomplete sentences racing through my head, but I can’t seem to catch one to put on paper.

I feel like one of those people that have the opportunity to go into the wind tube full of money and they get to keep whatever they catch. Most people come out with a couple of bucks but not a significant amount of cash. The lucky contestant stands in the clear tube, where they are showered with money swirling around them like autumn leaves. Audience members comment, cheer and try to encourage the contestant, who is frantically swiping their hands in the air, tying to grasp any of the bills fluttering about them.

Here I am sitting at my keyboard, wanting…NEEDING to write, to get these thoughts out and on to the paper. These words and thoughts are debilitating at times, giving me anxiety and paralyzing me in my inability to articulate them. Like a small wound that goes unattended becoming infected, causing pain and discomfort, so are the thoughts and words swirling around in my head.

Is this a common affliction writers experience? Is there a switch for the wind machine that will allow the thoughts to gently fall, enabling me to grasp them, my brain to process them, and my hands to record their music through the strokes of my keyboard? If there is such a button or switch, please share with me how to locate and disable it, because right now it is disabling me.

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Published by soheresmystoryblog

My name is Jennifer. I'm the wife of Dave, my favorite husband ever, and the mom to 450, give or take a few. I've given birth to two handsome baby boys, who have grown in to two handsome, wonderful young men. I do, however, provide snacks, bandaids, a listening ear, emotional support, calls to check in on, and so much more to about 450 kids at the high school where I am the "office lady". So in essence, I have 450 plus kids. My husband and I live in the middle of nowhere, in the upper left corner of the lower 48, with our dogs, cats, occasional cow, and a stray horse named Amber. In the absence of children in the home, our mixed breed lap dog, who happens to be the size of a small pony, has become our fur baby. I have a heart for the broken and hurting. God did not bring me through childhood abuse, bad decisions as a teenager and saved by Christ as an adult, to keep my story to myself. I firmly believe that we are not meant to walk this road alone, I mean God did create Eve because it wasn't good to leave Adam alone.

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