Forgive me blogger, for I have sinned. It has been seven weeks since my last pitiful post. I could blow off this newest impromptu hiatus by saying it was due to waiting out the end of A-Z, or that I’ve been too busy, but none of that would be true.
I have a confession to make, and this has been a long-time coming.
The truth is, my life in every other aspect is going just fine. My kids are healthy and happy. My husband’s doing great. I’ve been doing yoga, running, and preparing to find a job for September. All’s good.
Except for one thing.
That ‘other’ part of my life. The one I once held so dear, it could have drowned out everything else if I'd let it--That great thrill of creativity, words, and stories come to life and the thriving community that accompanied the process.
It’s time I stop beating around the bush and just state the truth about why I keep dropping off the face of the virtual planet:
I haven’t been around the blogosphere or the writing community much because I don’t like the way it makes me feel. (through no fault of its’ own)
I hadn’t realized it until now, or maybe I had, but just wasn’t ready to deal with it. But the truth is, I don’t think I’ve completely gotten over the deception that came with all those near-misses ages ago. I hate to admit it, but maybe I’m not as strong emotionally or psychologically as I once believed. Sure, I talked a good game, but when it comes down to it, I’ve started and stopped four different projects in the last two years, some getting 30k along before I simply ‘lost interest’. I haven’t been able to make myself blog regularly or keep up with publishing, author, or industry news.
When it comes to writing, I'm sure it's partly because I’m afraid. Afraid of finishing a project and investing in it emotionally again. Afraid of putting it out there. And afraid of enduring the same feeling of failure and just-not-good-enoughedness that I had last time.
When it comes to the community, I still flip through my writerly facebook regularly, because I miss the connections and friends I made during my blogging hayday. I spend time ‘liking’ all the amazing things my writing friends are putting out there and experiencing, admiring how productive and accomplished they are.
But it’s only a matter of time before I turn to my own, empty status and realize I have absolutely nothing to offer. I’m not productive, inspired, or successful. I’m a hack. Total fraud. Undeserving of interest or praise.
That sinking, no-good feeling begins to spread.
Which is why I quickly retreat back into myself and the other aspects of my life, and away from the writerly part, in a self-imposed exile that really affects no one but me; punishment for being so utterly unsuccessful, boring, and incapable. My solution? Complete and total avoidance of the problem.
Does it make sense? No.
But it is what it is. *shrugs*
I’m just tired of letting this feeling of failure keep me from a part of my life that I miss terribly. I think it’s time to put ‘er down. And I’m hoping that putting it out there will be the first step towards that. It’s easier to shoot an animal that’s out in the open, and all that jazz.
Anyways, I want to offer a heartfelt apology to all of my blogging friends for my absence. For being little and weak and cowardly and not facing my own crap sooner so that I could be here for all of you- have joy in your successes and offer encouragement through your obstacles. You can be sure this community has left its mark on my heart. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here. So here’s to taking back the reins.
You guys ever let negative emotions keep you from something you love? Any advice as to how to get over this feeling of failure that settles over me whenever I think about writing?