Writing: My Internal Battle

There is an internal battle constantly raging inside of me. I always have the need to write but having the discipline to sit down and do so is another story. A notebook and pen is what I always carry. I jot down notes or thoughts throughout my day with the notion that later on that night I’ll sit down at my desk like a good little writer and produce something with it. I rarely ever do and what ends up happening is that I am left with a notebook full of thoughts and ideas that ends up going into my big plastic bin of notebooks.

I’ll tell myself to log onto my WordPress and create! Yet, I will sit at my computer and stare at the screen with a million ideas swirling around my brain and still not type any bit of it. Or worse yet, I’ll type out a couple sentences, and then delete them immediately feeling as though everything I wrote isn’t good enough for anyone to spend their time reading. I mean, the last thing I want as a writer is to have someone read something I wrote and feel as though they wasted their time. So I do this little dance, “Have I written something decent? Have I given them enough content? Will people be able to relate? Do I even have a point and is it getting across?” If I’m not happy with my answers, deleted it gets.

It’s true when they say that we are our own biggest hurdle. I want to get deep into writing. I yearn for the opportunity to make this my priority and eventually turn writing into what I do for a living, yet how can I when all I do is get in my own way? I’ve read the motivational books. I’ve given thought to the inspirational messages. There is a strong pull however to always go back to doing what is “safe” even if being safe is detrimental to what it is you’re one day hoping to accomplish. For me, what is being safe? I find safety in not putting myself out there unless I find that what I wrote is worth being read. That means never taking a risk at posting something garbage all because the possibility of negative feedback scares me. Being safe is losing myself in the need of helping others when they need me. Even if it cuts into my writing time or distracts me from doing what I need to do to better myself. All that is an excuse for me not to work on my writing because ultimately I fear putting myself out there. If someone reaches out to me for help, I drop what I’m doing immediately to go help, even if it is not a tru emergency on their end and it’s cutting into my writing time. For me if I am helping someone, my excuse to not getting back to my writing sounds better than if I were to just say, “I’m scared to sit, write, produce, and post because I fear vulnerability and the potential criticism.”

I have sat down and really pondered all of this. I cringe at knowing that I have been standing in my own way of accomplishing my goals and obtaining my dreams because of myself and fear. With this understanding there is no going back. It is like they say, the first step to fixing your problem is acknowledging that there is a problem to begin with. I now wholeheartedly own the fact that I am my most biggest problem. I have been standing in my own way for far too long and now since I have learned to fully own it, it is time to take charge and to make some changes, even if those changes are totally out of my comfort zone. If writing doesn’t happen then it is solely me to blame. I’ve come up with a writing game plan in order to get me to write at least once a day:
* Write a book review for each book that I consume.

* Write online reviews for local businesses.

* Write journal entry a day, be it 3 words or 3 pages.

* Choose one descriptive word a day and write down a list of synonyms.

They’re basic daily goals for me to meet but goals none the less. It is time for me to take myself seriously instead of waiting for some sort of magical opportunity to present itself. It’s a weight off my shoulders to take responsibility for my actions (or lack there of) when it comes to my writing. I dream of the day that I turn all my hopes into fruition and am able to happily give myself a pat on the back for sticking to what means most to me.

 

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Death always has a way of stirring up thoughts and emotions that one sometimes ignores.

My grandmother almost died last week. The little firecracker put a real scare into everyone. All seven of her kids flew to Colombia to be by her side. A couple days later she made almost a full recovery. As full of a recovery that an 86 year old lady who just happened to catch a bad case of pneumonia could. She also had blood clots forming in her lungs which is what made the doctors question how much longer the little lady had to live.

The scare reunited the family together. For a week they all stayed by her side, laughing, crying, reminiscing over the good and bad times they have shared together. For me, my grandmother’s close to death experience made me think long and hard about all of the sacrifices this woman had to make in life raising 8 children, losing one of them, all while married to a husband who hadn’t loved her as much as he should have. It made me think about my life and how I never wanted to sacrifice my entire existence to please others instead of pleasing myself.

I hadn’t realized how unhappy I had recently become until a few things happened that triggered a shut down. When I say I shut down I mean I shut down. Other than getting up for work and robotically moving throughout my workday, I couldn’t muster up any energy to do anything else. No writing. No painting. No socializing. All I wanted was to come home, crawl into my bed and get lost in a world of Netflix and YouTube videos. The night would end and the next day would start, the same routine all over again. I was depressed and I hadn’t even realized it until an argument was had with the guy I was seeing which really placed things into perspective for me,  which was then followed by the news of my grandmother’s declining health.

I decided to take certain matters of mine into my own hands. I made a firm decision to walk away from a situation that wasn’t working for me. It’s been a few days and I can’t say I regret doing so. I hadn’t realized how stressed out I was before, and now that changes have been made it is like my days are a little brighter and I go about my life like a summer breeze, cool and calm. I feel like I am almost back to being me again. Even as I sit here and write this I wonder how I could let such outside forces really determine whether or not I have time to do the things I love to do. I blame myself for giving so much of me that I had no energy to then give to myself. It is a lesson I learned before but I guess I had forgotten about. I will not forget again. I will not lose myself or lose the energy to do for myself to simply make others happy.

Hi Me.

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