Life always finds a way to tell me I need a break. Believe me, I don’t like breaks. Especially when I’m on a roll. But life still finds a way, and this time I’ve been out of writing for at least 5 weeks.
And to be honest, it’s even longer than that. I’ve been out of writing almost the whole freaking year of 2020. I don’t think I’m the only one that has been out of it in 2020 and I do hope we all find our mojo soon.
2020 has been a rough year for me, we lost our first pregnancy which hit me harder than I wanted it, and I do know you can’t wish or want for something it nine out of ten times just happens. But if I could…..
I learned so much about myself in those weeks that I was pregnant. Mostly that pregnancy hormones are one hell of a rollercoaster and that I miss my ADHD medication, they do help me more than I wanted to admit. I like doing things on my own, and needing help or asking for help is hard for me. I also learned that listening to your body is a good idea and that I do get depressions from not being able to do things, like writing or even eating normally. I’m a huge fan of eating, not like stuffing my face full with food all day long. But a good steak, or some nice sushi and I’m happy. But not being able to do that, or even going outside and watch a movie, it was hard. I do like the idea of just going where I want when I want, but I do know the dangers of Covid and I don’t want to be the person who makes my loved ones sick, so I stayed home. A lot.
Everything made it hard for me on my own mind, to write, to keep smiling and working.
Most who know me, know that I want to prove my worth in life, and in writing it isn’t any different. This means that I have created an habit of putting (non-existing) pressure on myself. Pressure that might not even be there if I look back on it, but still it feels like it’s there. Weighing me down, making me doubt about everything I do.
I’m not new to depressions or as I like to call the single days of nothing but shit — “A world is ending day” Which mostly means I just have a shit day and need to do whatever it is I want to do. Mostly that’s reading.
Those days are fine, but the heavy depressions, that make me want to stay in bed all day. They make me doubt myself even more than I already do. Adding even more non-existing pressure on myself.
Something I’m dealing with and learning to work with, it’s al right to put pressure on yourself to get things done. Which means a little is enough. I’m just not (yet) good in finding the little in it all.
But 2020 is over, and I should be back writing. As I said at the beginning, life has a way of telling me to slow down, take a break. And after struggling a year long in figuring out how to write efficiently and faster, I just burned through creativity faster than a fart through air. Then I hit my 5 weeks of not writing due to being ill, nothing serious so don’t worry, and if you are reading this on the day it’s published, I have written 3k today (without this post). I’m getting back on the horse, but those doubtful voices in the back of my mind, telling me I suck as an author and that my stories won’t be as good as others or that I can’t do this, yeah they are there. And it makes everything so much harder, so much more doubts to rush through my mind.
I even decided to pull one off my books back, Grace which is written under a pen name Mary Tells.
I wrote that book in the middle of my depression, and in the end I shouldn’t have published it. I’m a feelings person, I do everything on my emotions and I should’ve stopped the release until I had the overview back. But I’m not someone who backs down from things, or not easily. And I wasn’t canceling a pre-order, so here we are. And now I’m pulling it from KU, and I’m thinking of just pulling it all together. It’s such a good written book, I poured my heart and soul in it, and maybe that isn’t what people wanted to read. Which is fine and brings me to the point of why things are going slow.
I stopped writing for myself, that’s my problem. Or was my problem in 2020. I wrote because I thought I needed to prove something to others. My first book exploded and I’m thankful, every freaking day for that. But the pressure that came with it, and the pressure I added, it made me doubt myself so much that I even wanted to stop writing. But I can’t, it’s in my blood. I love it too much, but I do need to remind myself, daily that I write for myself in the first place, then for you guys. If I do it any other way, I’m going to force myself into something I’m not. And that’s one thing I’ve learned early on, but keep forgetting, I’m who I am and I’m not going to change that for others.
So I’m back on the horse, and back to writing what I enjoy to write and read. I’m going to do it my way, and that might not be the non-written rules way. But at least it will be my way. The way I’m happy with thing, including the ups and downs of this journey.
I do hope I find the right balance between the pressure I need to get things finished on time or within a timeframe and the amount that won’t freak me out. As well as enjoying this new year, 2021 has just begun and I feel like it’s been going on forever already. And this post is probably going on forever as well. But yeah, I like to talk, deal with it? *sticks out tongue*
But it’s actually a long long post, so I’ll stop. Do keep an eye out for me, because I do plan on releasing books this year. On telling more stories and getting all my ducks in a row. Stick with me, to see me fail, climb back up and reach new highs. It will all be a journey.
Lots of Love Serena.