Picture this. My office, early 2021. I was on the verge of starting a really exciting mentoring and creative project. I wrote in my diary how much I was looking forward to it and my intentions for that day were to be purposeful and productive.
After putting down my pen the very next thing I did was waste about an hour creating a reel for Instagram. I spent painful minutes annotating the thing, uploading it, then neglected to click on the button to add it to my feed, so copied the text I’d also spent ages writing - and managed to delete the entire reel. Forgetting to save the damn thing first. What on earth, Helen?
Why did I do this when I had so much to do? I’d so many words I wanted to get written, an essay to write, my ebook to add to (ideally two thousand words a day but a thousand would be great), a newsletter to go out alongside the exciting new project: an email announcing the formation of my Confident Creative Club - and I wasted an hour on Instagram with absolutely NOTHING to show for it. Nothing.
To say I was frustrated and mad at myself is an understatement. But I know full well why I did it.
I was procrastinating because I was terrified of starting something brand new and then publicising it. Absolutely tummy-flipping, mind-spinning, headache-inducing terrified. It was even impacting my dreams - one night I had all sorts of weird things going on - including being unable to climb up a step as I was constrained by my too-tight long denim skirt ( I do not even have one of these in my wardrobe!) The step was wobbly and trying to trip me. Eventually, I did manage to overcome this frustrating obstacle but still, I feel sure it’s all related to what’s going on in my work life.
So naturally, I believe I’m safer spending an hour on Instagram rather than working on the scary project.