Crazy

No, not just my head, well. Yes, my head, but also where I find myself today.

A long time dream of mine – long term in terms of the past few years – I’ve had a dream to write a book about Joseph Stalin and his reign of terror during his tenure as Party Leader/General Secretary of the USSR. There are a number of books and even more scholarly articles out there, but nothing that I’d judge consumable by a non-academic. So. That’s been my goal. To write a book about Stalin that a non-academic can read.

I started my research years ago, but it trickled off as I found myself buried in my mind and overwhelmed by all the feels.

Then, inexplicably, I found myself picking up books and articles again a couple weeks ago. Not just picking them up and looking at them, but picking them up and reading them. Picking them up and taking notes on them. I find today similar difficulties as I did before, I don’t speak Russian so I don’t know what’s been twisted in translation. I don’t speak Russian so I can’t talk with people who may have grown up in the region. I’m not an academic so it can be difficult to access books for long term reading and research. I am a bleeding heart empath so it’s tough to read the history and know what hell Russians (and other folks living in the USSR) were put through.

Yet. Here I am. Reading and note taking and thinking about questions I want to address.

What’s scariest about this is it involves planning. This involves thinking beyond today, thinking beyond tomorrow. I can’t commit to something a week from now and I’m thinking about committing to something that’s, in reality, going to be a several year long project?

If any of you are looking for me I’m going to be curled up in the fetal position of the Stalin floor at Glickman.

I’m kind of freaking out.