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Insecure Writer's Support Group

It feels like a psycho killer chopped me into pieces and tossed them out the window of his orange 1962 Chevy pickup truck while driving in the middle of nowhere somewhere.

Life happens to the best of us -- bankruptcy, death, illness, birth, natural disasters and office moves all at the same time so you're drowning every morning before you even step in the shower. There's a lot going on in my circle, and most of it is completely out of my control, which is great -- I guess, if you're one of those serene, wise folks they write about on refrigerator magnets. I'm not. I'm unstable which means I worry too much about the crap I can't control and not enough about the crap I can.


For example: they told me at work "you may be relocated."

"No," I shouted.

"It's out of your control," they told me. "We need to make room for new employees."

"What about my team?"

"Get back to work."

I couldn't get back to work. I stared around the room at all of my coworkers, most of whom I'm very fond of, and wondered how I would manage in a different room with new people.

What if they don't like me?

What if they smell bad?

What if they're boring?

Will they toilet paper my desk when I go on vacation?

Will they complain if I sing songs about bodily functions?

I couldn't sleep, which made me unreliable and bitchy, and my kids complained that I was mean to them, because I was tired and impatient and yelled at them for every little thing.

"STOP CLIMBING THE DOORS!"

I chewed my nails until my fingers bled, and every night after work -- when I usually sit down and write -- I lay on the couch pouting and yelling that everything sucks all of the time. My husband's clients never pay him on time; our mortgage is late; our house is dirty; the neighbor across the street is plotting to kill us all; my dad's going to buy a motorcycle and drive on the freeway; my kids will be teenagers someday; it smells like Old Spice; and Mr. Jefferson died a week ago and nobody even told me.

No wonder I haven't been writing.

I was really broken over it -- not writing -- until I stopped caring. There has to be some flexibility in your schedule for emotional breakdowns and inconvenience, otherwise you'll have an aneurysm or a heart attack and die. You can't do anything when you're dead.

* The Insecure Writer's Support Group: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Comments

  1. Welcome to IWSG.

    Wow - what a deal. No wonder your nervous and upset. I can say, with all you've got going on, mark 'the house is dirty' off your list. If you saw mine, you'd feel better. It would make yours look like something out of Better Homes. ;)

    IWSG #178 (...until Alex culls the list again. :P)

    ReplyDelete

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