This can actually be applied to a lot of things when regarding humans, but today I’m just talking about how I’ve managed to edit two chapters of X, and how that only started happening again when I was 6-1-9’d (if you don’t get the reference, you don’t get it) by my tooth infection. And then I was more or less given The People’s Elbow (tbh I thought it was called something cooler) by my second dose of Pfizer. And yet, despite these punches from the inside of my body, I was able to start editing again.

There’s a lot of psychological questions around it, some completely out of curiosity and with no real standing, but it’s interesting to think about it. Is it because they’ve slowed me down? Is it because writing came from pain when I was younger and it was like returning to that state? Is it because I couldn’t really do anything else? Is it because I was too sick to care for my writing anxieties? Is it because being sick made me feel like a small child again and that made me want to connect back with X?

It could be anything, and sometimes it’s really not worth taking the time to completely dissect it, because sometimes it doesn’t offer you anything. But it’s interesting, because I have barely done any editing in the past half-year (probably a year by now) and yet I’ve been on a roll these past few days. Of course I haven’t been able to do as much as I might have if I was well, but if I was well, would I have started again? Perhaps maybe, at my lowest physically and my most open mentally, I reminded myself as to what I want to do.

Though I have been writing on this blog daily (the quality ever questionable), the lack of time I have been finding for writing—or sometimes just the lack of motivation—has made me question whether I really want to be a writer. And that’s a red flag there. I have always wanted to be a writer. It’s one of my only steady goals that is real—career day in prep taught me you can’t grow up to be a witch, but I spent years with that as my goal anyway)—but with my lack of progress, I got into my head. If I’m not trying hard enough, if I’m not making progress, if I’m putting my other work and projects before it … then do I want it enough? Because that’s the question for those who need to work hard to achieve something: do you want it enough?

There are definitely people who land in a position that they don’t want as much as another, but that other person doesn’t have the same resources, and so you must work harder. If you really want it. Which for me, that mentality sometimes feels like gaslighting. To tell someone they are not working hard enough because they are jumping more hoops than another is like trying to shift the blame onto them … but I think I’m heading towards a different topic there. Something more about systems.

Returning to main path!

What I’m trying to say is, I got worried. I got worried that I’d reached a point where I’ve been doing so little towards my goal that I don’t even have the right to strive for the goal in the first place. And whilst that might sound strange to some, that’s sort of how I’ve been feeling for a while, and I think this was one of the many bricks in between me and continuing on the path to becoming a writer, or more specifically, an author. Doubt, confusion, fear, inexperience etc. A bunch of bricks that I’ve just been scratching at, trying to convince myself to abandon the path. Because that inner saboteur is always there. “If you don’t start it, you can’t fail.” And whilst this is something we can constantly combat and remind ourselves is not a great mentality to have, sometimes it’s hard to tell it to go away, and sometimes we don’t even realise it’s there.

Not every experience is a good experience, but unless you’re moving forward, you’ll never gain new experience. Like an RPG game bar, you just won’t level up. Sometimes the experience isn’t quite in the direction you want, but it’s still something to add to yourself. You’re still making progress, you’re still reaching for it. You don’t always need to actively be running towards that one goal, because life has many paths to progress on, and that’s okay. If you’re able to, then that’s amazing, but just because you need to take a break somewhere, or because you’re stuck for a while, as long as you can recognise that and get back up and keep moving, then you’re making progress.

I write this to myself more than to others, but hope that any readers can take something from it. It’s hard having a passion, and even harder when you get to a point where you question it. Because it can make you wonder if it was ever a passion at all. Did I ever have what it would take? Do I even have what it takes now? I don’t know. And I won’t until I try. And so that’s what I’m going to do.

Also, if you’re reading this: thanks Stuart. Your engagement with some of my posts has re-lit my motivation and has reminded me that it’s okay for me to interact with others on here, even if I sometimes feel like a plebeian writer and so unworthy haha