High Hopes Dashed

It’s crazy how our hopes and ambitions can drive us beyond our abilities. Back in February of this year, I posted about my intentions of becoming a freelance writer.  (My Brave New Journey)  Having had to quit my job due to health disabilities, financial stress became the order of business daily. There’s little one can do when pain is neither manageable nor predictable.

I was grasping at straws. What could I possibly do from home during the moments when my health allowed me to actually do something? We had already exhausted our storage shed of items to sell. Nest egg and retirement funds were completely drained. Living in an area of poverty, there isn’t much available for an income that didn’t rely on a regular schedule.

I Considered Freelancing

So, being the writer that I am I considered using my writing skills to try to bring in a little money for us, and I began to research freelance writing.  I didn’t anticipate it paying the mortgage and the electric bill, but if it could at least help us out a little bit monthly I would be happy.   So much for those high hopes.

I studied what I could and reached out where it was available. One of my friends knew a published writer who was willing to lend an ear and her help. She gave me some pages to check out and follow for ideas on how to get started.

There was a bit of hope in my life again. Maybe I could make this work. I had already started this blog to showcase my writing ability. Would it be enough for someone to take a chance on me?

It Wasn’t Going To Be Easy

What I hadn’t considered was the amount of time, energy and dedication it required to get started. It wasn’t something I could reasonably do in spare moments, or good moments, or healthy moments. My first disappointment was realizing that even this was probably beyond my physical abilities.

Sure, I can write when I can sit down and concentrate for a period of time. Writing comes easily to me. Sitting doesn’t. You see, I can’t remain in one position for more than half an hour or so without becoming stiff.

When I stand after sitting for too long, it takes me a few minutes to even be able to take one step. My arthritic ankles will not flex. They are locked in place until I can get them stretched and moving again.

I Pushed The Pain

I bit the bullet a couple times and decided that I was going to sit it out anyway and try to write up a sample post no matter the cost of the pain. So I did. I was seated at the table in the same position for an hour and a half, which is how long it took to get the post written, graphics added and credits given where they were due.

I paid for that. Hard. When I went to stand up, my ankles didn’t even want to support me standing. I have a walking stick that I use everywhere, and I was literally holding myself up with the stick on one side and leaning on the table on the other side. Slowly, I flexed my ankles which were locked in place.

It took me 4 minutes to be able to take a step and when I did the pain involved shook me to the core. This is how I feel when I first wake up, when I’m down off my body for a period of time to sleep.

Still, despite this setback, I figured I would be able to at least do what I usually do – write for about 20 – 30 minutes, take a 5-minute walking break and go back to it. It’s harder to do this because I can lose my concentration and train of thought when I take those 5 minutes away. But for my own writing, it’s not an issue. Writing for someone else, it would be.

The Final Obstacle

Then, the second disappointment – we lost our home internet. When you can’t pay your bills, they have a tendency not to keep your services working. I would have to travel somewhere else to use their wi-fi if I were to still attempt freelance writing.

I knew working steadily as a freelance writer was not to be for me. Besides debilitating arthritis in the ankles, I also suffer from gout and migraine attacks, which are sporadic and can last multiple days. They would prevent me from leaving the house during one of those attacks.

This is hard for me. It’s hard to face the fact that my body is telling me what I can and can’t do, which dreams I can follow and which ones are no longer a possibility.

I Will Always Write

I’ve always dreamed of being a recognized writer. Whether it be for books published, poetry I’ve written, or something else, I always had hopes of my writing being recognized and appreciated. For now, my hopes are filled in this blog, and with the new “When I Became Free News” that I write an article for every week. One article a week, which can be written during my own time and sent off by email is doable.

On my good days, I can work on getting ahead for the days that aren’t so great. On my bad days, I can still rest and recover without the stress of a client needing something by a particular deadline.

So, for those of you wondering how my freelance writing career has gone, unfortunately, it’s gone by the wayside. Hopes dashed by reality.

I’ll still write. Until my last breath, I’ll be a writer. I just won’t be doing it for clients. And I’m OK with that.