This has been a revolutionary year for me in terms of “writing my way out,” and 2015 will be a banner year. I want to speak to those of you who desperately want to write your way out, but you are so full of feelings of failure, remorse, self-recrimination, comparison to others, etc. that you are terrified that you won’t do it, and even more terrified that you will.
These “little known factors” are actually quite prevalent factors in modern society, but too often go personally unrecognized. We feel justified in our self-recrimination and self-flagellation, so we stay where we are, bound and unable to move forward.
This is NOT A PEP TALK. I’m not going to give you 10 ways to motivate yourself or 14 ways to start over in the New Year, or even how New Year’s Resolutions don’t work. David Cain already did the latter in his Raptitude article, The Myth of New Years:
(P.S. He gives you a better solution than resolutions.)
Nope, this is going to be ripped from today’s headlines of my own life.
I began January 2014 with one desperate goal–to do something about my lifelong depression that had paralyzed me for far too many years. I was so psychologically crippled by it that I even applied for disability. Luckily, I was refused.
I went to my care provider and requested a mental-health appointment. My primary care provider had simply been giving me the same solution for over 20 years, and it just didn’t work for me. It took months–getting appointments, testing, evaluations, but, at last I had found someone who would listen to me. My first discovery was that the medicine I had been on and off of for more than 20 years was exactly the wrong medication, and that it actually exacerbated the problem instead of fixing it.
I have long been an alternative medicine person; I eat right, I take care of myself, but no matter what, or how many herbal alternatives I tried, nothing worked for my depression for very long. I tried so many therapies–positive thinking, positive affirmations, talk therapy. I was adamantly opposed to psychoactive meds, but my doctor finally got through to me and asked me to just try what he prescribed.
The diagnosis was ADHD and atypical bipolar (instead of huge highs and lows that would last for months on end, I cycled between high and low every few days, sometimes even every few hours). It was crippling me to the point where I couldn’t write. I couldn’t take on new clients or contracts because there would be days at a time where I was completely unable to work.
They were able to show evidence of my having had ADHD as a child. Since I grew up in the 60s, doctors weren’t diagnosing kids with ADHD then. Because of the way school was structured, and because I had an innate thirst for knowledge, I did pretty well in school, but there were other telltale signs of my childhood ADHD in my actions and lack thereof. This year they started me out on Wellbutrin which quickly helped concentration issues, but I was still my same irritable, anxious, completely unmotivated person. Well, I shouldn’t say completely unmotivated — I was typically motivated to begin several projects and then immediately would become totally overwhelmed and unable to do anything. That’s not a good thing when one’s livelihood depends on handling multiple projects at once.
By the time I went to the doctor last January, I was nearly in despair. Things got so low that by May I was no longer able to pay rent on my apartment, and I moved out in July, two months in arrears. Luckily, that’s just as the meds were kicking in. By July, the clouds lifted, the cobwebs blew away, and I felt “normal,” for perhaps the first time — well, maybe in my entire adult life.
The happy outcome of the mitigated depression this year was that I was able to fulfill a goal I had created when graduating from high school 40 years earlier — to write my first novel. My concentration and daily motivation soared, and in the last 6 months of 2014, I wrote 13 novellas: two romance trilogies, one five-volume set of mysteries, and two other romance novellas.
My writing goals for 2015 are to try out various genres. I have committed to writing a sci-fi story a week for a year (that’s right–52 stories). I also have some serious novels in my head, one historical, one literary, and one mystical, along with several novella series.
I have garnered better paying contracts as a result of my new-found wave of productivity, and my life circumstances have radically improved. With these contracts, I actually have time to do the paid work for living expenses, etc., yet I also have the time to work on my own stuff which I will market on Amazon.
I feel like I have it all: I’m living the minimalist, location-independent life I desire, following my bliss, and I’m healthy and happy.
Tell me of your own similar struggles and how you approached them, or how you think you might.