Spoilers: this will likely be more of a rambling/venting post than anything else. But, at some point, you need to let the darkness out so you can start seeing clearly again.
These past few weeks - ever since I got sick mid-August, which lasted nearly two months - I've felt my energy drain away, little by little. Until I reached the point where, yes, I guess I should admit I am depressed; but depressed is such a strong word, and I remember what being depressed truly is, that I can't exactly use it. In French we'd rather call it a 'déprime' - a moment of blues, where nothing seems to go well, and you come to doubt whether things ever will pick up.
I'll admit: after months of starting the Patreon and nothing there having moved for a while, I feel demotivated. Being unemployed and having to seek out jobs is highly stressful. Now, getting nowhere with my writing is making me feel hollow and like I'm betting on the wrong horse.
But I still try and keep going, because I know there is no other path for me out there. This is it. It's make or break, and I intend on making it. I don't know how or when. But, at this time, it's gotten difficult, even impossible, to shut out the fear and uncertainties and my flight reflex is just being overly strong.
I've recently helped out a dear friend by filling out a questionnaire about her, and her global reply was: it's like you're in my head. I'm pretty good at insight, at understanding people, listening, observing, and putting myself in their shoes.
It's a whole other issue to do so for myself. Not that it's hard; it's just that it's painful to look at your own shortcomings. And to own up to them. I hate feeling vulnerable.
But I did so nonetheless. Because I'm tired of feeling at a standstill in the mud. Because I'm afraid of the feeling that I'm, again, watching life pass me by.
Here's the thing: I pinpointed something earlier today about my own behaviour. Something I noticed when, after telling bf that my NaNoWriMo project might not be publishable due to its themes. He got slightly upset; he's been waiting for me to publish something so I can get myself on the literary map. But I don't feel as upset about it as he. In fact, I think I feel comfortable with the idea of staying in the dark. I'm self-sabotaging. Out of fear.
Perhaps I'm afraid not to be successful and that it'd be too hard a blow to endure. But perhaps I'm rather afraid of ever being successful, because I really don't want to stand in any spotlight. What better way to sabotage your chances than by avoiding doing things that could potentially get you further along the road you wish to take?
I do wonder if it has anything to do with getting bullied into social phobia when I was a kid. And I mean the sort of phobia that makes it impossible for you to even talk to storepeople or ask a question because you immediately feel all eyes upon you and like people are judging you for whatever reason. I'm afraid of the spotlight. I don't want to risk standing there.
But how, then, do I intend on being a successful writer? I guess I don't. That's the only logical conclusion. I know writing is all I truly can do, all I care about, and at the same time I plan on wasting my talent on... what? I don't even know. Doing nothing, I guess. Just watching life pass by and cry over it while it's passing.
Even seeing this vicious cycle with clarity, I can still not quite muster the desire to defeat it.
I've long ago understood that you can't defeat your inner darkness, only befriend it and accept it will always be with you. It's why I've started doing more things Death-related, including booting up a still-emtpy Facebook page: Death, transformation; what is obsolete must be weeded out, so something new can grow. Death goes had in hand with melancholy. There's a reason I write tragedy almost naturally.
But when the darkness is all you can see, all you expect, despite the experience that after the rain does come a rainbow, what do you do? Do you persist? Do you give up? Do you walk through the days without an umbrella and complain to yourself that the rain's getting you wet?
I've been thinking recently that, to reduce some stress, I should lower the Patreon reward levels. My heart told me right there: if you do that, you're essentially giving yourself permission to quit everything. And as crappy as I feel, I don't want to give up. I've given up writing for too long to the profit of outside work. I can't do this again.
But what, then? How do you get yourself back on track? I honestly don't know. For me, it goes through writing, always. Posts like these are what help me put things in perspective, and having them be public makes me feel like people are listening - and perhaps recognizing themselves and their struggles. Perhaps the trick isn't so much getting yourself back on track, as it is to get off the track entirely and take that desperately needed stroll through new lands.
I wish I knew how to stop sabotaging myself, though. I don't know how to stop being afraid of success, when success should be exactly what I try and achieve. I want to be read and enjoyed - that's my main motto, that's what I'll stand for. But at the same time this motto is as positive as it is negative - being read and enjoyed can also mean that only one person reads you, and taking satisfaction in that. Maybe I don't think I'm good enough (true); maybe I'm seeing the wall to climb before getting anywhere and thinking I can't make it so why try (true); maybe it's just easier to look at things rationally and financially and, since writing isn't quite happening lately, believe that I'm not capable of it long-term (true). I don't know. What I do know is that I've now reached the point of self-frustration. Something needs to change.
Really hoping NaNoWriMo brings about something good for me. I've got a real good idea lined up (because let's have some ego, we need it). It's gotten me excited. I get to write about Death. A different Death than the one I'm used to. It's gonna be awesome.
If, of course, I can stop self-sabotaging and telling myself, once I open Word, that I can't do this.
