Notes From My Writing Journal

Remembering to write for myself.

One of the issues that I’ve created after over two years of writing on Substack is that I think I have to write something profound each time. And if I’m going though something I feel like I have to have all the answers, so that if you’re going through it too I’m able to help.

The problem is, I’ve put so much pressure on myself to do this I’m completely dry. Which is making me think that my current way of writing is not working. It’s led to major blockages. Every Monday I think that this week it’s going to be different, and each week it hasn’t been.

I think, I think, that my burnout is still ongoing because I have made my Substack all about you instead of all about me. That sounds really horrible towards you, I apologise, but let me explain.

When I had burnout two years ago it was because I was taking on, or rather absorbing, the emotional creative needs of others whilst accepting no support for myself. It was completely my own fault, I’m not blaming anyone at all for this. I willingly offered my services as a mentor and fell over with the weight of it all.

And now, I’m trying to write as a mentor instead of simply writing about my experiences, my observations and sharing the things that are giving me joy. I’m trying to give advice instead of just writing, ‘I’m going through this at the moment’.

This, I realise too, is what I’ve been doing with my non-fiction book proposal. I’m writing it for the reader instead of myself. Now this is something I want to delve further into.

So, every week I’m thinking ‘what can I share with my readers?’ and there’s nothing because I haven’t learned anything that would be applicable, inspirational or motivating to you. After all I haven’t been able to grab myself by the scruff of my neck and pull myself out of this debilitating, frustrating, annoying bloody burnout. And so the cycle continues.

But I realise, as I write this, that I’ve forgotten one of my very few rules.

When I write, I write for myself.

That’s the only way this works. Not to worry about what others think as they read it, not to worry about giving advice and mentoring others, but simply to write about the behind the scenes of an anxious writer.

I didn’t know I was going to write those paragraphs above when I dragged my laptop onto my knee an hour ago. I thought I’d simply share some of my thought processes from my writing journal. I’ll share them below, but maybe you can see how I got to the conclusion above, simply by collecting my thoughts over the last month or so in my journal.

Writing in a writing journal doesn’t always make sense at the time, but paragraphs from the last six weeks have enabled me to get here. Maybe it’s a turning point? We can but hope.

~

“Where do I go from here? What do I do next?”

“So, what is my purpose? What do I want to write about? What do I want to explore? And the answer at the moment is - I don’t know. I mean, I enjoy exploring the creative mindset, but when the mindset is struggling this doesn’t give me much to write about. I feel stuck, de-energised. And I doubt myself and the direction I want to go in.”

“This is the biggest crisis I’ve had with my writing in years. YEARS!”

“Am I done? So scared. No impetus to write. No idea what to write about even if I did want to write.”

“Just floating, looking down from above at what everyone else is doing…”

“Burnout has long tentacles. I really messed myself up a few years ago. And doing The Writer’s Way probably finished me off. I’m also well aware that all this has coincided with the perimenopause. Plus, not so deep down, there’s a fear going on regarding my non-fiction book proposal. Otherwise why haven’t I sent it out to more agents for goodness sake?”