What's Wrong With Just Ticking Along?

Sometimes...you just need to stop putting pressure on yourself.

Twelve months ago I was happily running my membership club, utterly oblivious to the fact that this club would eventually lead to my debilitating burnout.

I was productive, and on a real roll with my book proposal; intending to send it out to literary agents within the next few weeks. My months, weeks and days were scheduled and I knew what I was doing on a daily basis. I had two live writing sessions most days and a masterclass once a month. All done via Zoom with club members around the world such as in the UK, the USA, Canada, Italy and Sweden.

I loved it. I loved the routine. I loved the communication with other like-minded creatives. And yes, I loved helping people, loved having that side of my business, and loved that I’d allowed that side of me to thrive.

And now that’s all gone because I just couldn’t handle it. I am absolutely devastated. I’ve written about that before. But I don’t think I’ve written about just how much it has upset me. To lose all of that. My business, my mentoring, my routine, the confident creative person I had become, and the conversations. You know, I thought it would be the fairly stable monthly income I would miss the most but this didn’t even occur to me. I simply miss the creative life I’d made for myself.

I suppose what I’m thinking is that this Substack may evolve in the future to become something like the membership club. Where I’d create live masterclasses, maybe do live writing sessions, work on our productivity as a group, and take tiny steps forward with our creative work. And doing a live Zoom session to talk about my behind-the-scenes of Substack was my way of going in that direction.

It was my way of working my way back to becoming a confident - and productive - creative.

But as it got closer to the date I realised - I just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to be talking on camera again. I wasn’t ready to deal with my (feeling of failure) emotions should people not turn up. And recently, just trying to have conversations with others and realising my brain is still post-burnout foggy at times, I realise I cannot keep a train of thought going for the hour or 90 minutes required for a masterclass.

Last night, as I sat by the fire (in June!) watching yet another episode of The Big Bang Theory I wrote on the notes app in my phone the following sentence: what’s wrong with just ticking along?

Then I wrote the following:

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I keep making plans to push myself out of my comfort zone. Although if I’m honest, 12 months ago these things would’ve been well within my comfort zone. But after burnout, they’re no longer tucked safely inside.

I keep planning live chats via Zoom. And realise that I’m just not ready.

I decide I’m going to pitch an author for her to appear on my podcast. But I know my anxiety will rise if I do so.

I’m so used to doing things out of my comfort zone and getting a thrill from it that this is difficult for me.

I blame burnout. Everything has gone topsy-turvy since then.

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And then I get cross with myself. Self-flagellation time. I know it’s irrational but I feel like such a failure for not being able to do any of this stuff. My head is screaming at me:

“You are using burnout as just another excuse NOT to do the thing that terrifies you! Burnout is your reason to stay small: to not contact an agent, to not send the book proposal out, to not schedule interviews on your podcast, to not go live with your Substack community. Nothing is going to change, you’ll be staying small forever. You’re just plodding along and getting nowhere.”

[And time continues to tick by. And dreams continue to be unmet.]

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But I keep going back to the wise words of Mel, a friend of mine I’ve known for aeons here on the internet. In an email to me a couple of weeks ago she said:

How do you define success? Do you define it the same way in your head as you do out loud? What about in relation to other people? How might external messaging around 'success' either consciously, or subconsciously, have influenced your current expectations of yourself?

Mel also reminded me that “'plod' is still forward motion”.

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In my head success to me is someone with a successful writing career. She has many books published, a huge community on Substack or elsewhere, she appears on podcasts, maybe does the occasional talk, is interviewed by magazines, websites and newspapers, shares a fantastically interesting life on Instagram, is lauded by her peers and is earning enough money to travel and have a beautiful home.

I could name a number of women who fit that description. But is that really what I want for me? (And does it really feel like that for the women who appear to have that?) Does this tie in with what I was talking about earlier - turning my Substack into a smaller-scale membership club?

What’s wrong with just ticking along (for now) here on Substack? What’s wrong with plodding? With quietly adding to my word count every week via tiny steps? Why do I feel I have to have everything done right now - quickly! - otherwise I’m a failure. Why do I keep setting myself up for failure by comparing myself to others and adding to my activities?

It’s time to revisit tiny steps. To set realistic goals, to focus on what I truly want both in the short and longer term and to stop comparing myself to other creatives on the internet.

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Can you relate? Do you look at other creatives and feel like they’re achieving their goals and you’re still settling into the starting blocks?

Are you struggling with burnout or simply overwhelmed?

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My vulnerability hangover is going to be HUGE on this one.