I Write Because It Keeps Me Sane, I Write Because It Keeps Me Driven
“It has been so long since I’ve found it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. It has been so long since my stress levels and anxiety have caused everything that I’m doing to come to an immediate halt. I’ve dealt with my generalized anxiety for a little over four years total, and with it comes the realization that I will never truly be able to rid myself of it, and that is okay.”
I’ve had a late start to my Monday morning, something that would usually throw off my productivity for the week, but I couldn’t help it. There are times when our need to tend to our wellbeing outweighs all that we wish to accomplish, especially if all of those “responsibilities” are things that very well CAN be put off. I know, I am indeed the kind of person that still sets unrealistic goals for myself in the hopes of getting things done on a schedule that nears impossible to complete. Therefore, when I crash due to anxiety or being relatively overwhelmed, trying to pick myself back up proves to be difficult.
The past few days I’ve noticed just how much imbalance is present in my day to day life. I’ve noticed that my goals are slowly changing, and I am doing nothing to achieve those goals. Heavy criticism of you personal performance hinders your ability to get things done. You’re allowed to feel as though you could do better, but don’t down on your abilities. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been exceptionally hard on myself to the point where I don’t even feel like writing anymore. That is what needs to change. I began writing because it was something I loved, I began writing because it was the only thing that allowed my full sense of expression. Somewhere along the line, that got lost, and here I am trying to match what used to be.
I find that I can never do small writing prompts because I feel as though I’m working on too many things and I need to accomplish those first. I need to stop caring so much, and do a writing prompt that is completely unrelated to any of the heavier stuff I am trying to tackle. Deadlines can be tricky, but they can also toss me into a whirlwind of disappointment when I miss one, especially when they’re only put there to keep me on track. I need to allow myself to breathe and remember that my writing is subjective, and at this point in my life I am only doing it for myself.
It is an incredibly difficult thing to tackle, especially when there’s so much you want to say, or do, and you feel as though your efforts aren’t good enough. They are. They are good enough. You are doing the best that you can, and that is all that matters right now.
Surely, my anxiety is nowhere near gone, and I was just about to call it quits for the day, turn off my laptop and head back to bed. However, I wouldn’t be doing much growing if I did that, now would I?