![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenoftheskiesI think I might finally have stumbled across the secret meaning goals have for me.
Goals being my word counts, my plans for novel completion, editing, submission, for completing critiques, and the dates by which I hope to achieve certain aspects of my writing.
As much as they are there to advance my hopes for a writing career, they're there to keep me sane and guide me through the distractions and disasters of life.
They've been the one solid thing in my life when everything else goes to hell. They held me fast and unwavering and, even when everything was bad, I'd get by.
The more difficult the goals, the more I had to hang onto. Because if I could meet those goals, when everyone else said they were impossible, I could conquer anything. Right?
Until so many things hit at once that I became an emotional wreck and allowed all the doubts and frustrations in my life to tell me, once again, that I sucked. I could work all I wanted, but I'd never be a good enough writer to succeed.
Because when real life is knocking you down and you stumble every time you try to get back up, it only makes sense that you're not good enough and not strong enough. Right?
Well...
It's easy to believe that. Easy to succumb to that philosophy.
VERY easy. All too easy.
But, writers aren't into writing because it's easy, are we?
Once my goals faltered, and everyone assured me, "don't worry about it...you need some time off", I sank deeper into unhappiness. Because...when I write, I'm happy, deep down, no matter what else is happening around me.
And, it's a vicious circle, don't you know. Real life problems cause no writing. No writing causes unhappiness. Unhappiness causes inability to deal with real life problems, which get worse and more stressful cause they're not dealt with.
Until it hits the point where I sit down and say, "I can't make it any more," to real life and "I can't write. I wish I could write," to writing.
But, I COULD write. I'd hate what I wrote...even if it was the most perfect, polished thing that had ever been written. But, I could still write.
I just don't. Not when I get like this. Which, thank the powers that be, doesn't happen very often.
It doesn't usually last long. Not this long.
I'M TIRED OF IT.
Today is a new day, and I shall write.
Actually, I wrote last night. Not fiction, but a letter. An important letter. And, I sat there the entire time going, "I can't do this. I can't do this." I e-mailed my sister and said, "I'm tired and my brain hurts and I can't do this."
I stayed up until 11:00 working on it, though, because around 10:15, I realized I was onto something. I COULD do it. And, I wrote and I edited and I polished until I FORGOT that I couldn't do it.
And, I did it.
So, while into each life some rain must fall--and, sometimes, it may even create floods and mudslides--it's still possible to go down for the count and come back up again, kicking and screaming and swimming. Because, before long, if I work hard enough, the shore will be in sight.
I believe that. I really do. In spite of the fact that I often tell myself I suck.
It's when I can FORGET those doubts and those fears that I know, if I keep plodding along, I've got a chance to succeed.
I just need to get a life preserver or something, huh? Or see if I can learn an anti-rain dance. :)
Goals being my word counts, my plans for novel completion, editing, submission, for completing critiques, and the dates by which I hope to achieve certain aspects of my writing.
As much as they are there to advance my hopes for a writing career, they're there to keep me sane and guide me through the distractions and disasters of life.
They've been the one solid thing in my life when everything else goes to hell. They held me fast and unwavering and, even when everything was bad, I'd get by.
The more difficult the goals, the more I had to hang onto. Because if I could meet those goals, when everyone else said they were impossible, I could conquer anything. Right?
Until so many things hit at once that I became an emotional wreck and allowed all the doubts and frustrations in my life to tell me, once again, that I sucked. I could work all I wanted, but I'd never be a good enough writer to succeed.
Because when real life is knocking you down and you stumble every time you try to get back up, it only makes sense that you're not good enough and not strong enough. Right?
Well...
It's easy to believe that. Easy to succumb to that philosophy.
VERY easy. All too easy.
But, writers aren't into writing because it's easy, are we?
Once my goals faltered, and everyone assured me, "don't worry about it...you need some time off", I sank deeper into unhappiness. Because...when I write, I'm happy, deep down, no matter what else is happening around me.
And, it's a vicious circle, don't you know. Real life problems cause no writing. No writing causes unhappiness. Unhappiness causes inability to deal with real life problems, which get worse and more stressful cause they're not dealt with.
Until it hits the point where I sit down and say, "I can't make it any more," to real life and "I can't write. I wish I could write," to writing.
But, I COULD write. I'd hate what I wrote...even if it was the most perfect, polished thing that had ever been written. But, I could still write.
I just don't. Not when I get like this. Which, thank the powers that be, doesn't happen very often.
It doesn't usually last long. Not this long.
I'M TIRED OF IT.
Today is a new day, and I shall write.
Actually, I wrote last night. Not fiction, but a letter. An important letter. And, I sat there the entire time going, "I can't do this. I can't do this." I e-mailed my sister and said, "I'm tired and my brain hurts and I can't do this."
I stayed up until 11:00 working on it, though, because around 10:15, I realized I was onto something. I COULD do it. And, I wrote and I edited and I polished until I FORGOT that I couldn't do it.
And, I did it.
So, while into each life some rain must fall--and, sometimes, it may even create floods and mudslides--it's still possible to go down for the count and come back up again, kicking and screaming and swimming. Because, before long, if I work hard enough, the shore will be in sight.
I believe that. I really do. In spite of the fact that I often tell myself I suck.
It's when I can FORGET those doubts and those fears that I know, if I keep plodding along, I've got a chance to succeed.
I just need to get a life preserver or something, huh? Or see if I can learn an anti-rain dance. :)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 05:05 pm (UTC)Treating yourself like a precious object makes you strong.
Julia Cameron.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 07:15 pm (UTC)Thanks!
Book you might find helpful
Date: 2006-03-23 05:44 pm (UTC)Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, Susan Jeffers, Paperback, Book, ISBN: 0449902927, Self-Improvement
Keep at it!!
Re: Book you might find helpful
Date: 2006-03-23 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 07:12 pm (UTC)Throw 'em back at life. Do you know how much a lemon can hurt when thrown hard enough?
no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 07:13 pm (UTC)glad to see that you're feeling better..........
Date: 2006-03-24 01:37 am (UTC)Chris