Normally I do my best to create paragraphs that fit together and have a bit of humour added in. They’re written a safe distance from my true self, never venturing towards the rambling, disjointed, personal words which I put in my journal. I know bloggers can be that personal but I’ve never been comfortable with it. However, occasionally events happen that leave you so confused and hurt that only disjointed, personal sentence fragments are left.
My netbook was stolen this week. On Monday an anonymous man on a bicycle swiped my little writing machine from my car. I know this because I was shown the footage form the security cameras. On that computer was my nearly edited book and every piece of writing I had produced for the last three and a half years.
I mourned. I’m still mourning, every word that I didn’t put out to the world, all of the ideas that I kept in there for myself, the book that I had almost finished editing. All of it gone.
These past couple of days I tried to put words together, to push myself through the pain of my loss and be a clown but I couldn’t. There weren’t any words, I couldn’t find a place to start.
I’m sad and disappointed and angry at myself for leaving the possession I love most because it has so much of me in it, in a place where it could be taken. I’m frustrated that I never actually followed through with backing up my words on Google Drive or a separate device.
Part of me is glad though, that I thought to release my work to the greater world, that I put so much of what I loved and was proud of, up for the internet to see. That all of those words are still there.Eventually, when the initial pain of my loss has worn off, I know I will be more grateful for this and recognize how much content was saved in my one hundred and fifty posts. But for now, all I can see are the files I had yet to edit, the words I sweated over but hadn’t published, and all of the pieces I wrote just to write them. Those are the only paragraphs in my head at this moment.
My heart goes out to you. Perhaps you might make a list of the things you wrote to the extent you can reconstruct the subjects and or the titles. At some time in the near future a name might jog your memory and you will be able to produce a new draft.
My heart is still sad for you. But you will be able to remember more than you think. Good luck!
I’m most devastated by the loss of a piece about my great grandmother. It was my fifth draft and I was finally (somewhat) happy with it. Thank you for the nice wishes.
I bet! When you are in the right place, you will discover the perfect 6th draft!
I can recall some of it, I should do a brain storming session and note it down. It all will come back to you.
I recall some of it too. I will write it down again eventually. Just not this week.
Your words are never truly lost because they are forever inside you. You wrote magic before someone stole from you and made you feel violated, I know that magic will never fade. Thank goodness for the book hard copies we have of your book.
There are electronic copies just not edited ones. Poor you, all that work and cheerleading you did to get me to finally think “Yes I’m going to try and get published” and that happens.
I’m just sad for you but glad not all of the work is lost! I’m always behind you.
Ouch and ouch. This is an awful feeling, I know. It’s little comfort but perhaps all those thoughts will be reincarnated in another form. They may be distilling in your brain right now. Still, very sorry you’re going through this.
I appreciate the comfort. And the idea of my thoughts reincarnating. I personally am coming back as a giraffe so I’d like to see what my thoughts come back as.
Losing a part of yourself is very difficult, but you are strong and will be stronger(and even more entertaining)as aresult when you manage to emerge from the abyss. Love always. Mom
Yes me and my dry clean only skirts are very entertaining.
Weather it’s morning coffee of sleepless late nights I look forward to your postings.
Smile and keep writing.
Thank you for the encouragement Anthony.
Great delivery. Great arguments. Keep up the good spirit.
Thanks, I appreciate that.