Half Way

Half  way.  The worst place to be, in almost any situation, certainly the most vulnerable to doubt and worry.  Half way through my novel, I felt overwhelmed and stopped writing for a time.  Now I'm half way through the month, and I feel a bit overwhelmed again.  My mind feels cloudy.  So much work has gone into this that the two previous weeks have felt like two months!  So much to do, write, say about the same issue.  How many ways can you focus on a different aspect of the process before you run out of ideas?  I suddenly feel my age.  (I'd like to think the "inner me" is about 35.)  Of course, the generosity of so many people has propelled me this far.  I couldn't be more grateful.  I would have thrown in the towel, or strangled someone with it, had these good people not come to my aid.  But I'm stuck in the middle of the seesaw, trying not to allow one end to fall to the ground.  I'll need to get off of it sometime, but today, I'm just lucky I can balance it.  Balance.  Tomorrow, I move toward the finale of this work. That's tomorrow, no longer half way.