It’s difficult to explain how real the struggle is when it comes to being a writer.

The ebbs and flows of productivity go from Death Valley lows to Everest highs for me. (Thank you to @LiveLokai and their amazing bracelets for planting this visual in my mind!)

I struggle with these types of ups and downs often which then, surprising no one, leaves me grounded, all writings coming to a complete halt. When the writers block hits or when the emotions become too much or life presses down too hard, I retreat instead of standing up and facing IT (it = jobs, money, friends, family, weight, goals, etc.) head-on.
And I feel like a coward every fucking time this happens. A right lowly coward.

I’m a strong person, or I try to be. But I crumble whenever the emotions become too much and overwhelm. Maybe it’s not every time I fall apart, but it definitely feels like this is the case.

And I’m in the midst of a storm right now that seems utterly endless. Yes, my rational side exists throughout this howling wind and pouring rain, imploring me to believe that “it won’t last forever!” And it won’t. I know this low won’t last. They never do.

But as a writer, this is worrisome. The fluctuations between highs and lows are one thing for the psyche but for a creative, I feel its effect is compounded and spiders outward, tainting everything within reach.

You see, when I’m caught up in the whirlwinds of these hurricanes, I want to write more. When I’m drowning in self doubt and fear, I want to write more. But I don’t because I see no reason to—will writing change my life? Will it make a difference? The answer is yes, obviously, but when you’re sad, or fearful or anxious, no answer seems to satiate the irrational questions living in your mind.

I want to create more photography projects and complete things I started years ago when I experience this kind of down time but …I don’t. I make no effort nor action to do so. I simply retreat, hide and wait it out.

Which is not an answer.

Maybe I do this because I’m fatigued by insomnia or I don’t have the means or time to focus on the things I’m burning apart my soul by not accomplishing.

Maybe I’m clinically depressed and need medication. Maybe I’m hormonally imbalanced because I’m not a kid anymore and these things happen to women all the time.

Perhaps it’s all of these things at once. Or none of them. Perhaps it’s the universe telling me to move. Challenging me to overcome. To see the silver lining and know, in my heart and in my mind, that it was always there, waiting to be found.

I don’t know the solution, folks, but I do know that I’ll be alright. That things are never as bad as they seem.

I mean, I just saw Paul McCartney for a second time in concert two days ago (blog on him/The Beatles coming!). It was one of the best nights of my life and one I’ll remember detail for detail for as long as I live.

Maybe I’m crashing after that high and that’s where all my current emotions are stemming from? Guess I’ll need to follow Macca around then, because that feeling is goals, my friends.

Here’s to keeping on. ?