***Warning: This post was written by a confused young woman
and doesn’t contain any answers to the questions raised. You have been
warned***
I hate being a writer.
Shocking, I know.
But, see, the thing is, writing is my happy place, my fun,
fulfilling pastime.
It’s also my job.
And, now that I’m trying to be a professional and treat it
more like my job, it’s starting to feel a lot more like work and a lot less
like a happy place.
I have planned and plotted so many story ideas in the last
few weeks. I have worked out all the little kinks and pushed through the plot
holes. I’ve made them go from a simple thought or idea into a true story, all
ready for writing.
And then I sit down to write and I’ve got nothing. I just
feel completely empty.
It’s like the part of my brain that strings word together to
make sentences and turns those sentences into stories is no longer functioning.
It’s like that part of me is completely empty.
I have struggled the last few days, trying to figure out
what to write about here. I’d get an idea for a post and go “yeah, that’s great” until I sat down to write it. And then, nothing.
It’s like I can’t even do that anymore.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I want to write. It’s not like I’m not trying, because I am. But it’s
like my brain is unable to do that right now.
I don’t want to quit being a writer, but I sure hate it
right now. I wish it was like a “regular” job where I could work on it and
struggle and then leave it at the office when I got home at night.
But, writing is a calling, a way of life. It’s not something
I can turn on and off like a switch.
So, when I can’t sleep and I’m plotting an idea at midnight,
it’s hurtful because my mind keeps reminding me I probably won’t actually be
able to write it.
Sadly, my brain is right.
And I am sick and tired of it.
The reason I write is because I want to share my stories
with people. I want my ideas to not just be in my head, but to be something
other people can read and talk about and enjoy.
So when I can’t share them, it feels like my entire
existence as a writer is a waste of time and energy.
What’s the point in plotting a story I won’t be able to
write? What’s the point in working on something I can’t actually put into
words? What’s the point of pouring my time and emotions into something that is
solely for my benefit?
Is there a point?
Because if sure doesn’t feel like it.
What it feels like is a waste of time. A waste of energy. A
waste of life.
But, it also feels like all I have.
Since it’s summer, I don’t have a lot else going on. The
writing class I teach and the Bible study I do childcare for both don’t start
until September. So, while I don’t want summer to end because my sister is home
and the end of summer means my sister is gone, I can’t wait for September.
Because then I’ll have other things to occupy my time with.
Things to get my mind off of the fact that I am a failure as
a writer. But, I can’t actually quit my job because writing doesn’t work like
that.
It’s something I’m stuck with, for better or worse, until
the day I die. So, if dying’s the only way to get quit, I guess I’ll hold
out. Because that’s not something I really want to do quite yet- dying, that
is. But, that might just be the only reason why I'm holding on to this writer thing right now.
So I guess I’ll just keep up doing what I’m
doing. I don’t really have many other options.
And, if you would like, you could pray for me, should you
think of it:
- First of all, please pray that I fully depend on God for everything- including my words and inspiration.
- Second, that I stop stressing out about this and that my ability to “do words” comes back soon.
- Third, that I could stop stressing about the other things in my life, especially writing class, and that if it’s God’s will, I will have another few students.
- And, lastly, please pray that I don’t let my attitude about my temporary writing inability cross over into the other areas of my life and effect the way I deal with the people around me.
And, I’m really sorry that this is a depressing post without
any answers to my questions. But, I did warn you after all.
I guess I’ll be posting on Friday, so if you have questions
feel free to send them in. Those seem to be the one thing I can write these days.
Thanks so much for reading and caring. I appreciate you,
faithful reader.
Until Friday, remember to stay awesome! I’ll see you then.
I understand. I have been here for so long. I'm praying for you, with a heart heavy with the knowledge of how much this hurts. I love you.
ReplyDeleteThere's no space where His love can't reach/ There's no place where we can't find peace/ There's no end to amazing grace/
*hugs* We can be here together then ^.^ Love you, girl! <3 <3 <3
DeleteI understand where you're at and will be praying for you. God doesn't waste a moment of our time. I have been him-hawing (is that a word?) for over a month about history books for our homeschool and it's almost the end of August....Love, Aunt April
ReplyDelete"God doesn't waste a moment of our time" Thank you so much for this wonderful reminder! And of course, your prayers! I appreciate both of these things and having you for an aunt <3
DeleteYou know where that doubt is coming from. It is a wonderful thing to do what you love and get paid for it. That is the best job to have. You have been blessed with a great gift and a great imagination. Do NOT let him win! You CAN and will continue to share those people and places with us. Keep on pushing through, you can do it. Have faith. Love you.
ReplyDeleteRemember all stories start as ideas and yours just aren't ready to become real yet. You continue to put ALL of your thoughts down on paper. The ones that you are supposed to share will develope in time. Kind of like cooking. You put ingredients into a pot add the seasonings, give it a stir, reseason if necessary. Then the next thing you know dinner is done.
DeleteHave I told you recently how much I appreciate you? Because I really, really do. Thank you so much for your encouragement and support. Such wonderful reminders that I really needed to hear. Love you! <3 <3 <3 <3
Delete