Calm down. Don’t panic. Breathe. Write.
I’ll start by being honest.
These months have been the most anxious times of my life.
Its nearing graduation. I’m going to be unemployed. And I realized, I no longer have my dreams. I’m not sure what this is. I hope its “just a phase”. But is it a phase if I think I no longer want to write?
I have not been having a very productive writing week lately. Actually, I wouldn’t even call it a week. Its been the longest time since I felt at peace with anything I’ve been writing. In fact, I’m downright panicking. I’m scrapping everything I so much as scribble on a page. I’m deleting everything. I’m “cleaning house”. I hate the words. Dare I say it mother? I hate the words?! No! NAY! these words shall not be uttered! It is sacrilege!
People say its impossible for a writer to not be a writer, and a few years ago, I would have been one of those people who said that, but now … I’m not so sure anymore.
Back to unemployment, I have been writing my whole life. I’ve been studying my whole life. I do not know what its like to NOT study.
I’ve also been learning my whole life, and spending the time to explore all the things I haven’t seen, and suddenly, its as if I don’t have this luxury anymore. Sure we know that we never stop learning, and spend our whole lives searching, but now, its as if, we don’t even have the time to think, and we have to just start producing.
And it makes sense, I mean I know knowledge is wasted if it wasn’t used. Because what’s the point of gaining so much in your head if you don’t put it to use? We do not simply store up reserves.
You’ve now got to act. You must act, and do something with it.
It is depressing. I know what I have to do, but I hate that I have to do it.
I was quite taken by what I read from Benoit Raphael today. He said, the reason why he went into journalism back in the day, was because he couldn’t speak. He was nervous, an spoke with a stutter. It gave me a reaffirmation that maybe, through my shortcomings of speech, in my anxieties before speaking to people, maybe I could just do this too, and pave the way for other introverts of the world, that hey, you could be this person even though you are not the cookie cutter journalist.
Then I read about Lee Strobel, the noted Christian writer, and how he used to be a journalist that wrote for the Chicago Tribune. You could be a journalist and a Christian too. I mean one doesn’t really put the two and two together you know. Journalist and Christian? Doesn’t really fit the mold. So, there’s a further reaffirmation.
All in all, I feel this great weight on my shoulders.
Maybe I’ll just go and be a dog breeder.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stop writing. Save it for another day.
p.s. you all know that I’m half serious right?