I can't remember when it began. I also can't remember when it stopped. So that must mean that wherever I'm going, I'm still on my way. It took me a while to accept that.
To start with, I began school last week. This might seem like a trivial thing to most, but to me it mattered. It means that the big dreaded exams are looming on the horizon like a black cloud, that I'm getting ever closer to having to get my shit together and make something of myself because hey, I'm nothing if not ambitious and I wanna succeed and this is where I mess up.
I put pressure on myself to be the best. I've always been competitive and I've always wanted to push myself to my boundaries and the problem with that is when the boundaries are broken, you don't know where to go. It's almost as though I've always been inside an enclosure, a pen of some sorts, and upon breaking out of it I just got lost. I didn't know where to go. And that was hard for me.
The worst part was, this showed in my writing.
Suddenly, I didn't know what kind of writer I was anymore. I mean, it got to the point where I started asking myself why I bother, why I write at all and whether I should even be doing it.
What I'm trying to say is, I lost my voice. I lost what it was that made me unique, that made me special, and worst of all...I lost my motivator. I could not be motivated to do anything: writing, homework, speaking, anything.
I went through about seven possible novel ideas. I plotted, I outlined, I gave myself headaches just by worrying about it so much, and every time they ended up on the scrapheap I felt like pulling my hair out and smashing something against the nearest wall.
So I stepped back.
I took some time away and breathed. I tried to reprogram my brain into saying nice things, into not telling me that not writing meant that I was a failure. I let myself stop thinking so much and I spent many days just sitting in my room and breathing.
And eventually, in that time I spent finding myself again, I found that I discovered a lot more about who I was as a person and a writer.
I discovered that yes, I am ambitious, but that doesn't mean that I have to pressure myself so much.
I discovered that yes, I am competitive, but you can't beat those who aren't running your race.
I discovered that yes, I sometimes need to step away and find time to feel at peace with myself and that is okay, because I may not be able to write three books at the same time and I may not be able to write a gazillion words a month and that is okay.
On this journey of mine, I not only found my writing voice again.
I gained a deeper understanding of who I am as both a writer and a human being.
Have you ever been on a similar journey? Have you ever felt lost, either in yourself or your writing? Can anybody out there relate, or at least understand what I'm going through?
If you can, it would help to hear from you. As always, if you wish to, leave a comment below if you feel like venting or getting anything off your mind.
And thank you.
- Sunset xx