Oh, Writers Block, UP YOURS!

Secret Link (enjoy)

When it comes to expression, as an artist, writer and poet, all I care about is the ease of creating. Life can build these emotional blockages in my life that make it impossible for any good work to come from me. I start to see the obstacles forming in my life, like little beavers building a dam for a home, and if I was smarter I’d cut to the bottom of it before it turns into what it always does. A complete writers block. It’s been a minute since I have written any fiction. My brain hasn’t been connected with my spirit. I’m trying to write out all my fantasies and forgetting my souls mission. And sure, I’m just experimenting with writing styles and genres, but there is a clear difference between the way it feels to write my novel and to fuck around with this other shit. I’m learning while writing always but I feel as though my subject matter gives me a clearer idea on where I’m directed mentally.

I haven’t been all that kind to myself. I don’t know how to be gentle and still feel like I will achieve something some day. I have a high standard I place over myself (inherited by you know who and you know what) that I strive to attain every day. But I always forget the most important ingredient in all my writing. Self-acceptance. I always somehow leave it out.

Probably because I’m not happy with myself. How can you be happy when you haven’t reached your full potential. How can I rest when I haven’t gotten to the peak yet. How can I say good job and no job has been completed. I don’t know. I wonder, when will I accept myself? What’s so wrong with this person now? I’m having a hard time viewing myself in context to my own damn life. I try to see myself in the first person,  second person, third person limited and third person omniscient just so I can keep myself grounded, but lately, I’m just tumbling through a wave of insecurity.

I feel fed up with this though. I feel tired of being so insecure. I’m tired of being so afraid. That is what I cannot accept. That I have come this far, learned what I have learned, know what I know, fought what I have fought and still… I don’t feel good enough. I’m still afraid of everything.

Maybe I’m afraid to be truly angry. Maybe I’m afraid people won’t like me when I stand up and say what it is I have to say. Maybe I’m afraid that I’ll isolate myself further by being honest. I don’t know if I know how to be fully honest about how I feel. I can feel myself getting close to being done though. I’m almost ready to close the chapter on quiet-me. There’s too much I’ve let go unsaid. It’s time to speak up.

Mental health is an ongoing battle. There is no ‘victory’ or ‘cure’ there is only fighting, every single day. There is only armor against the tricks our brains play on us. There is only charging ahead with fire in our bones. I’m not going to beat this, I’m going to conquer it and make it work for me. Being mentally ill isn’t going to be holding me back for much longer. Soon it will be all the fuel I need to complete these things I have been planning for so long. I’ve caught the Kanye West, I’m never going to fail. 

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