What it’s Like Forcing Yourself to Write
Sometimes there are tasks that need to be done that you just DO NOT WANT TO DO.
Cleaning the bathroom.
Taking a shower when you just want to sleep.
Sometimes, you don’t do these things. But then work piles up. It gets on your nerves. You wonder why you didn’t do this stuff from the very beginning, why you let it get so bad.
Same thing with me for writing.
Sometimes, I dread having to write up another blog post.
I wonder if I’m screaming to the void, if it’s worth writing one if anybody else will even read it.
Sometimes, I just don’t think I have anything interesting to say.
Before writing this blog post, I got up and showered.
I cleaned the floor.
I sprayed it with disinfectant.
I called loved ones for an hour.
I scrolled through social media in an attempt to feel something and break out of my stress-filled rut.
I wondered why I even bother writing.
I tried to think of what I did today…
…of the mistakes…
…of what I could’ve done better, but ultimately, couldn’t change.
And then, finally, I sat back down and closed the social media tabs. I put away the cleaner, the broom, the dustpan. I finally decided the room was clean enough. I drank some water, pulled my laptop onto my chair.
And I wrote this up. Screaming to the void or just writing for myself, this is what it’s like at times to be a writer.
It’s sacrifice. It’s sacrificing a little bit of yourself every time, some of your precious TIME. You give of your time to create something, even as brief and seemingly insignificant as a blog post, because you ARE A WRITER.
And writers, quite simply, write.
And writers, not so simply, write.
And that’s what I plan on doing, no matter the struggle.
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