I love to write.
I love when entire scenes play out in my head. I love when I rush to my room, when I pull over at a gas station to jot down a few words. I love rereading something I’ve written and saying, “damn, this is good!” My entire body is alive, there’s a light inside me that’s bursting out. I can’t be stopped, I’m untouchable.
Then there are the glooms.
The times when I want to do, all I actually do, is curl up in my chair, bag of m&m sprinkled popcorn in hand while I blink at the white page. Those are the times when I fight to keep back the tears, when I walk around my entire campus trying, hoping for anything. I pull out hairs. I binge eat and watching loads of TV. I let the envy sink in.
Those are the worse times. Those are the times when writing is hard.
Not challenging. Challenging is easy to overcome. There’s a problem but I take pride in, have fun finding/reaching/creating the solution. Hard sucks. Hard is stress, a stress factory. Hard means something’s missing. It’s not just that I don’t know/like my character’s name, that I’m “in the middle” and nothing seems to be happening. Hard is a reevaluation. Something is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Hard is when I don’t want to write. Even more so, hard is when I’ve lost hope in writing, when I’ve let someone take hope from me.
Yet the crazy thing is, the thing that makes me a writer is though I know it’s hard, though I’m in the gloom, though I’m losing hope, I can’t give up. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just know that without writing, the Sun ceases to exist. Yes, I keep living but the world isn’t a world I want to be a part of. Writing provides my fuel…writing is my fuel. It’s what wakes me up at 3am or keeps me up all night. Writing gives me unbeatable joy because although there are many other things that make me happy, writing is something I create, I do. It’s me seeing, proving to myself how amazing I really am.
Writing is hard but not as hard as waking up one day realizing I’ve let my dreams go, let fear sink in. Writing keeps me afraid, afraid that if I stop, I’ll never start again. Writing drives me.
Writing is hard but it’s also my soul. I’m a writer. A stubborn one, a young one, an upset one but most of all a very happy, deeply proud, always thankful one because without writing my soul would be incomplete.
When you love something as much as I love writing you don’t give up. You cannot. You must not. Giving up is saying, “I’m not worth it, I don’t believe in myself.” What’s hard makes us stronger. Fear is not the enemy, it is the force. One thing’s for sure, if you give up now, you’ll never smell the roses 🙂