Without even meaning to do so, today I joined The Insecure Writer’s Support Group. Creative types can inherently be a doubtful bunch but I think that very ingenuity makes us especially skilled at hiding it.
When a large part of life is spent inventing entire worlds it becomes very easy to convince yourself of anything. That anything could be positive or negative:
Don’t tell me I’m not the bomb.com! Shakespeare who?
This is the most inane story on earth. Why do I even bother?
What’s missing from those statements? Balance, for one. And sanity. It’s folly to compare yourself to anyone and it’s equally ridiculous to completely abandon something that brings you so much joy simply because your name isn’t in lights.
But that’s where I found myself today. It started with a misunderstood comment and spiraled down into something dark and distressing. It freaked me out because I don’t have days like this. Fear normally fuels my determination but for some reason, I’m having trouble shaking this off.
I know it will pass but I have to sit with this for a little while. I’ll indulge in music therapy and turn to the one thing that always makes it better.