The Near End of NaNoWriMo

Total words written: zero!

Well, let’s wait and see what I can churn out on this blog post first. I’m not really sure what I’m doing anymore. I keep telling myself that I’m going to get writing, either doing blog posts or essays or drafts of a novel.

The whole point behind teaching myself dictating was the idea that I needed to produce words faster. Obviously, if I get more words out on the page, it’s going to get around me not being able to find enough time in the day to write that book that I’ve been talking about for so many years. And yet, as I sit here dictating this, I can’t help but notice that it’s not for lack of free time or ability to churn out words that I’m not writing anything. It’s obviously something much deeper and more insidious than that.

There’s all kinds of thoughts swirling around in my head whenever I right. But also, and those times when I’m not writing, but I feel like I should be. “Why are you so lazy? Why are you not writing more? What is wrong with you? How is it that other people are able to write things but you can’t? Are you stupider or lazier than they are?”

This is a subject I come back to again and again with my therapist, and I can’t seem to crack out of this loop. How can you approach a task when the energy surrounding it and imbibed in it is so negative? Is it any wonder that I don’t feel like doing it? Obviously it’s way easier to drink a beer or play tetris or watch chess videos.

But is it a question of motivating myself differently? I feel like I don’t want to wait the requisite amount of time to do “kindness” or “healing” that it takes where I can actually come to the task with a jolt of lightning. I wish I had a better idea of what “real” writers do, to straddle that line between motivation and self-care.

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