I wrote this post and Tuesday's posts on Sunday morning, and then I DID something. Starting with boxing up the negative voices and shoving them in a corner. Still, I thought I should leave this post as a reminder to others not to give up.
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It's early Sunday morning and the house is quiet, other than the cat snoring and my computer humming. Hubs went back to bed a while ago. Me? I'm just sitting here in front of the computer, trying to convince myself to write something. Or edit something. Or DO something. Anything.
Earlier, I saw on Facebook what I think was the breakdown of a human being. When I first got on, I saw a long post that basically amounted to 'I hate myself and everything I've ever done and I'm so so sorry to anyone I may have hurt'. Then as I scrolled through my feed, I saw he'd made post after post of really depressing-ass songs. Not a writer. Just a dude who had sent me a friend request a month or so ago, who has until now seemed like a really cool and stable individual. At first, I thought he'd been hacked, but the songs... Well, after a bit, I decided that perhaps it was him after all. Which is really depressing.
But I get it. Been there, done that. Listened to the same songs.
Anyway, it all got me to thinking. And sitting here staring at my computer trying to force myself to DO something, lest I write a similar post of my own and thrown down a cavalcade of similarly depressing-ass songs.
You know, I think the songs actually make things worse. Scratch that. I know they make things worse. For godsakes, do not listen to Counting Crows. If you aren't depressed when you start, you will be by the time you're done. Suck the joy right out of you, they will. I used to wrap myself up in them, thinking they knew how I was feeling, but in the end, it turned out they were actually feeding my depression rather than empathizing with it. And once I realized that, I got those damn CDs right the hell out of my life.
Now, when I'm feeling blue, I put on my HAPPY mix and try to use that to lift myself out of it. Or I listen to Rachmaninoff. Hard to feel down listening to that.
My problem right now isn't so much that life is getting me down, it's that I don't feel like a writer. I don't feel like I even know how to write anymore. Not fiction anyway. I feel like when I sit down and start typing, all I'll produce is crap. I feel like the whole beginning of Cinder Ugly needs to be scrapped and I don't have the first idea on how to start it over. And I have no clue how to start anything else. It's all "'Crap? We love crap. Crap crap crap. Crap crap. Crap. Crap"*.
Yeah, I know... I'm the first one to tell you 'give yourself permission to write crap'. 'It's all fixable.' 'You can't fix a blank page.' Somehow that advice isn't helping today... err, for the past few months. The caveat to that advice, one I didn't realize was there until now, is that it's okay to write crap as long as you have some hope it'll be fixable later. And I don't have any faith this crap will be fixable. It's not fertilizer from which a rose will grow. It's toxic sludge from which nothing will ever grow.
Yes, I know what I have already written is not crap. It's what's coming out of my hands now that's crap. Or, at least, that's the thinking that's got me stuck.
Not sure how I'll muddle through this. I will. I think the first thing I need to do is kick all the negative voices out of my head. Or at least shove them all into a big box and then shove the box into a corner where I can ignore it. I'm working on it at least. I haven't given up. Nor will I.
The FB guy? I hope his outpouring of depression yesterday helps get his mind right. Sometimes you've got to pour it all out so you can fill up with something better. And sometimes, if you let it, it just fills up with more of the same. I really hope he finds some good and positive things to fill up on.
And now, finally, there's the first glimmerings of sunrise. A new day. Let's make this a good one, eh? Let's DO something.
* Norman Fell in the movie 'Transylvania 6-5000'.
A good reminder and call to action this morning! I've always called myself a pragmatist, but the reality is likely closer to pessimist...except in regard to my work. I don't think I allow myself too much analysis over my stories, except to read my reviews and make changes in future books. In that way, it probably makes things easier. I try not to overthink it, but deliver good customer service to my readers, ha. I'm glad you're kicking out your negative voices!
ReplyDeleteYeah...I know exactly how you feel. And it totally sucks. Go fishing today. Even if you just sit on the bank in the shade and watch a bobber. I need figure my equilavent of fishing. I used to do stuff too, and then the world crowded in and depression hit (it's been a year now and I don't see the sunrise yet) and I know I need to do something to fix myself but I haven't figured out what it is yet. I'll get there. I've lived too long not to.
ReplyDeleteAnd yeah, box that shit up, and airmail to me. I have a spot in the back corner of the yard where I'll bury it for you. Neither one of us write crap and we both--deep down--know that. Time to shut the negativity down and get back to living. I'm gonna work on that. Right after I drink another cup of coffee. 💕
You *don't* write crap. It may feel crappy while you're writing it, but I bet when you go back to it after a bit of time, you'll say, "Hey, this isn't half bad!"
ReplyDeleteGo for it!