Last spring and summer, I had some medical problems. I’m not going into detail here, but it resulted in pain, but more than that, it messed up my hormones terribly, and wreaked havoc with my emotions, energy and focus. I worked and took care of my family, but many days, I just wanted to sleep, all the time. I didn’t want to write, or play video games, or do lots of things I love–I wanted to sleep. And when I wasn’t sleeping, I berated myself for being lazy, for being tired, for not keeping up with everyone else.
I belong to a writer’s workshop; a group of kind, successful, funny people all working to be the best writers we can. They motivate me and give me new ideas. But from spring, I didn’t want to go. Writers WRITE, after all, but…I wasn’t writing. It was like my mind ran dry, and my story voice went mute. I’d sit blankly in front of the screen, wondering if anything would happen. And then I’d go sleep instead. I didn’t want to go admit it to anyone.
Isn’t that strange? I know the writer’s group will motivate me, but I have no motivation so I don’t want to go and admit that that blank page is daunting now, instead of enticing. It’s like saying I can’t go to the gym because I’m too fat (another thing I say in dark days) or not going to the doctor until I feel better. Not answering email because there are just too many and I don’t know where to start, so I don’t. And as time passed, it got worse. I have nothing to show for myself. I don’t know where to start. I can’t finish anything. I’m such a failure.
As time passed and I started feeling more like myself. The writing wasn’t so daunting; still hard to finish, but I could get words on the page. I did some freelance work. I attempted some publications and got some encouraging rejections. I managed to feel more like myself, but still had trouble trying to figure out how to get back on track. So, this month, I went back to workshop.
They were, of course, supportive as always. I felt awkward being so far behind on the writing they’d done, but it was good to be back. I started writing down ideas and gearing up to send stories out again. Feels like old times.
I still feel bad about how much time I lost, but there’s nothing to be done about it now; time to move forward. Hopefully, soon, I’ll have some new fiction to share with you.