Thursday, March 31, 2011
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Saturday, March 5, 2011
Fighting exposure anxiety...
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I think that in order to be a better and successful writer I will have to buckle down and make myself sit in front of the computer and listen idly and passively to my thoughts. Then write them, or in this case, type them. Then go back a year or so later and look at their quality and maybe, if lucky, pull from them gems in which to build something greater. I need to practice and get better at letting things flow from me so that when I sit down to write about something I really want to, it will come easier and with little struggle. I need to stop listening to my inner critic. I need to write for writing’s sake. It is a pressure valve for me, a release. I need to stop analyzing everything I do and every step that I take and let it flow and trust in what I do. Too many people have commented in your life as to the caliber of your work to constantly be worried that it just isn’t good enough. To worry that you will not measure up. Quit comparing yourself to Christopher Rice and thinking that you failed to hit the mark when he did. Quit comparing yours and Amanda Hocking’s life and works. Stop following an imaginary timetable that you set up. The pressure is too much and it kills the Spirit within. It kills creativity and imagination. Hope, dreams, inspiration, all killed in their infancy.
This morning I was thinking about how much I am going to miss Lakai when Nikki moves. He will no longer be there when I wake up like he is now on the days that I babysit. He won’t be curled up next to me in a warm, fuzzy ball. He won’t be there to comfort and cuddle. I’ll miss the way he flips back to expose his belly and chest when he realizes I am awake and paying attention, asking me to reach forward and pet him in my half-conscious state.
I find that the only way to get rid of the “stories” and “images” that run through my head throughout the day, whether while reading or laying about in bed or whatever, is to write them down or type them out. It is like a bucket set below a leaky ceiling catching drops of water. It gets full, my head, and I have to empty it out sometimes. It makes sense that analogy.
I get weird impulses and feelings sometimes. I was thinking about my car and working on the engine this morning and the thing that I got stuck on was the feeling of the hood dropping back onto my head. The way the incredibly heavy hood would feel. I thought, with a shiver, about whether I would bleed, would I actually feel myself bruising? I could almost feel the pain a touch would bring to such an injury. My ability to construct and live a piece of mental imagery is impressive I think. I mean, I never cease to be awed by it anyway.
Word vomit on the page…makes me feel better.
Why do we enjoy watching movies together? Or going to a play together? Or something of the like? Is it to have a shared experience with others? You are silent during them, but you can discuss them after. Is that the draw? But why then do we want to discuss things with others? Also, why is the primary enjoyment of the experience there? Why does it entertain us and then have the power to secondarily enjoy it by debating it with fellow humans? These thoughts used to frighten me. They still do sometime but the have less power to cause a panic attack now. Why they are frightening I’m not sure. It could be that the thoughts themselves are so big they make you feel small and infantile. Weak and without power. Helpless and hopeless. Is it not knowing the answers or not knowing how to voice the answers? I wonder… Maybe some of it is that you worry if these are normal thoughts. After you lose your mind to a medication or poor combo thereof due to shabby medical treatment you question everything. You become hyper vigilant for fear that something else will go wrong. When someone or something you truly trust with your health and life, in my case the medical field, and your trust is misplaced, well, it rocks your world to the core. A fundamental value and belief of yours is cut from your soul. I never knew what that kind of violation felt like before. I thought that my father’s drinking and my sexual abuse at the hands of another child was Earth moving and horrifying, but I never really knew until I had to suffer through this. I wish it on no one. I feel that my panic and pain are actually being dealt with now. Away from the meds and the occasional help I get I feel more and more alive again. I see magic and wonder in the questions I asked above again instead of the terror. Writing again has been like a pressure valve and I cannot stress that enough. It is more than something that I am good at. I think that I can use it as something to connect to others with, regain my confidence, trust and ability to expose myself and take risks for positive benefits. Whether I can one day have a career in it or just help one other person with it or find myself it is so worth it. At the very least it will help me find myself. If I just type true to me then I will find Beauty in Life again, through the things that I know to my core are truly beautiful. I want to know what it is to get infatuated with something again, to be a fan, I want to remember what it is like to feel love and be in a relationship again. In one of those situations where you know without a doubt that you are loved and love someone else. That kind of special Trust. I feel relieved and better after typing this. 10-20 minutes in my day and I have made myself feel so much better, practiced my True Soul’s craft and discovered more about myself.
I accept that sometimes the things I write will be babble. That sometimes they will suck. My experience will be different than any other writer’s. It is my journey and I must go it alone, although sometimes with support. I know that I have to have faith in myself and work at this. The Olympic gold medalists do not just wake up and decide they will take up their sport the day before the games. They work hard for years and compete and some may be amazing athletes, but only a few can make it to the Olympics and even fewer win. I can do this. I will read and write and build my confidence. I will find others like me and we will help each other. Learn about publishing houses and agents and who is looking for what and who to invest in. I am talented and I have a voice. I will share it and let others like me know they are not alone.
Allowing yourself to enjoy Life is sometimes a very difficult process.
I think that I want to join some kind of book club. Is there one online? I would love that type of shared experience like how I talked about movies.
I had a dream in which I was walking through a snowy field with what remained of the corn stalks and furrows from the previous season. I was explaining the Claddagh ring on my left pointer, heart made of diamond pointed out and crown facing in, to someone. Is this connected to some of what I was thinking about Ryuu and Connor’s relationship?
With accepting that I may suck and I cannot write perfectly always I have opened the floodgates on my ability to write. I currently, counting this one, have 4 word documents open and my fingers are flying over the keys.
I think I may share this journal entry to try and help me deal with my fear of openly expressing myself.
I think that in order to be a better and successful writer I will have to buckle down and make myself sit in front of the computer and listen idly and passively to my thoughts. Then write them, or in this case, type them. Then go back a year or so later and look at their quality and maybe, if lucky, pull from them gems in which to build something greater. I need to practice and get better at letting things flow from me so that when I sit down to write about something I really want to, it will come easier and with little struggle. I need to stop listening to my inner critic. I need to write for writing’s sake. It is a pressure valve for me, a release. I need to stop analyzing everything I do and every step that I take and let it flow and trust in what I do. Too many people have commented in your life as to the caliber of your work to constantly be worried that it just isn’t good enough. To worry that you will not measure up. Quit comparing yourself to Christopher Rice and thinking that you failed to hit the mark when he did. Quit comparing yours and Amanda Hocking’s life and works. Stop following an imaginary timetable that you set up. The pressure is too much and it kills the Spirit within. It kills creativity and imagination. Hope, dreams, inspiration, all killed in their infancy.
This morning I was thinking about how much I am going to miss Lakai when Nikki moves. He will no longer be there when I wake up like he is now on the days that I babysit. He won’t be curled up next to me in a warm, fuzzy ball. He won’t be there to comfort and cuddle. I’ll miss the way he flips back to expose his belly and chest when he realizes I am awake and paying attention, asking me to reach forward and pet him in my half-conscious state.
I find that the only way to get rid of the “stories” and “images” that run through my head throughout the day, whether while reading or laying about in bed or whatever, is to write them down or type them out. It is like a bucket set below a leaky ceiling catching drops of water. It gets full, my head, and I have to empty it out sometimes. It makes sense that analogy.
I get weird impulses and feelings sometimes. I was thinking about my car and working on the engine this morning and the thing that I got stuck on was the feeling of the hood dropping back onto my head. The way the incredibly heavy hood would feel. I thought, with a shiver, about whether I would bleed, would I actually feel myself bruising? I could almost feel the pain a touch would bring to such an injury. My ability to construct and live a piece of mental imagery is impressive I think. I mean, I never cease to be awed by it anyway.
Word vomit on the page…makes me feel better.
Why do we enjoy watching movies together? Or going to a play together? Or something of the like? Is it to have a shared experience with others? You are silent during them, but you can discuss them after. Is that the draw? But why then do we want to discuss things with others? Also, why is the primary enjoyment of the experience there? Why does it entertain us and then have the power to secondarily enjoy it by debating it with fellow humans? These thoughts used to frighten me. They still do sometime but the have less power to cause a panic attack now. Why they are frightening I’m not sure. It could be that the thoughts themselves are so big they make you feel small and infantile. Weak and without power. Helpless and hopeless. Is it not knowing the answers or not knowing how to voice the answers? I wonder… Maybe some of it is that you worry if these are normal thoughts. After you lose your mind to a medication or poor combo thereof due to shabby medical treatment you question everything. You become hyper vigilant for fear that something else will go wrong. When someone or something you truly trust with your health and life, in my case the medical field, and your trust is misplaced, well, it rocks your world to the core. A fundamental value and belief of yours is cut from your soul. I never knew what that kind of violation felt like before. I thought that my father’s drinking and my sexual abuse at the hands of another child was Earth moving and horrifying, but I never really knew until I had to suffer through this. I wish it on no one. I feel that my panic and pain are actually being dealt with now. Away from the meds and the occasional help I get I feel more and more alive again. I see magic and wonder in the questions I asked above again instead of the terror. Writing again has been like a pressure valve and I cannot stress that enough. It is more than something that I am good at. I think that I can use it as something to connect to others with, regain my confidence, trust and ability to expose myself and take risks for positive benefits. Whether I can one day have a career in it or just help one other person with it or find myself it is so worth it. At the very least it will help me find myself. If I just type true to me then I will find Beauty in Life again, through the things that I know to my core are truly beautiful. I want to know what it is to get infatuated with something again, to be a fan, I want to remember what it is like to feel love and be in a relationship again. In one of those situations where you know without a doubt that you are loved and love someone else. That kind of special Trust. I feel relieved and better after typing this. 10-20 minutes in my day and I have made myself feel so much better, practiced my True Soul’s craft and discovered more about myself.
I accept that sometimes the things I write will be babble. That sometimes they will suck. My experience will be different than any other writer’s. It is my journey and I must go it alone, although sometimes with support. I know that I have to have faith in myself and work at this. The Olympic gold medalists do not just wake up and decide they will take up their sport the day before the games. They work hard for years and compete and some may be amazing athletes, but only a few can make it to the Olympics and even fewer win. I can do this. I will read and write and build my confidence. I will find others like me and we will help each other. Learn about publishing houses and agents and who is looking for what and who to invest in. I am talented and I have a voice. I will share it and let others like me know they are not alone.
Allowing yourself to enjoy Life is sometimes a very difficult process.
I think that I want to join some kind of book club. Is there one online? I would love that type of shared experience like how I talked about movies.
I had a dream in which I was walking through a snowy field with what remained of the corn stalks and furrows from the previous season. I was explaining the Claddagh ring on my left pointer, heart made of diamond pointed out and crown facing in, to someone. Is this connected to some of what I was thinking about Ryuu and Connor’s relationship?
With accepting that I may suck and I cannot write perfectly always I have opened the floodgates on my ability to write. I currently, counting this one, have 4 word documents open and my fingers are flying over the keys.
I think I may share this journal entry to try and help me deal with my fear of openly expressing myself.
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