Some days it just hits me. Most days I float through life, I
worry about the future in the same way most people do, but I rarely do anything
to change my future. But sometimes it all hits me like a ton of bricks. I have
these epiphanies that are so strong is seems at is if the world stops. My
breath catches and I am paralyzed by my realization that I am too scared to
really live.
I was at a show last night, a show that I have been looking forward to for months. One of the opening bands was playing. Their music wasn’t overly good, but it was decent. I could tell that beneath the synth and the loops and stupid stage theatrics that these artists were really talented singers. And I liked the music, but I liked it in the same way I like other bad music, it is entertaining to listen to, but it isn’t really thought provoking or soulful in the way Taylor Swift sings about every single guy that has ever broken up with her, which is apparently a lot. Regardless, I was at this show and I was watching these performers and it hit me. These people are not doing what I want to do, what I am passionate about, but they are putting themselves out there! I want to write and the best part about writing is that I can lay my heart and soul for the world, but I am doing it with the written word and have the privilege of anonymity. But these people that were on stage, doing that exact same thing, opening themselves and their lives out for criticism and they were rocking it. They were good, the crowd loved them. And if they could put themselves out there without the benefit of being anonymous, why can I not put myself out there behind my blog?
Watching others be fearless made me want to be just as fearless. I have always hated myself for being crippled by my own fear. It is very sick and very cyclical. I hate that I am afraid, but I am too afraid to change it. With each passing piece I write, I am feel I am one step closer to someone realizing that I have no idea what I am doing. That me putting words on to paper is nothing more than that, simply words on paper. I am terrified that one day someone is going to realize I am hack and they are not going to hold back in telling me so. One day some is going to tell me everything I already fear and know. But, I also realize that letting this fear hold me back is cheating myself and the person that will mostly likely one day force me to come to the harsh realization that I am possibly not as talented as I think I am, or my friends tell me I am.
And as if the universe were pushing me in this direction, you know, in case my Earth shattering epiphany wasn’t sign enough I opened a fortune cookie that told me “Keep in touch with some form of the arts”. Even the damn Chinamen is all up in my business, pushing me to do the only thing that I am good at doing.
So, I have to say “Thank you” to Flavr Blue, Watsky, and the Chinamen down the road, Grand Peking, for putting that damn cookie in my take-out. Now, I just need to hold myself accountable and follow through on my most important promises, the ones I make to myself, and maybe one day when my dreams come true, I can thank myself for ignoring that damn voice in the back of my head that will not shut up about how hard I am going to fail and how terrible I really am. If I can quiet that bully that lives inside me and I can overcome my fears, I think I stand a real chance of making something of myself.
I was at a show last night, a show that I have been looking forward to for months. One of the opening bands was playing. Their music wasn’t overly good, but it was decent. I could tell that beneath the synth and the loops and stupid stage theatrics that these artists were really talented singers. And I liked the music, but I liked it in the same way I like other bad music, it is entertaining to listen to, but it isn’t really thought provoking or soulful in the way Taylor Swift sings about every single guy that has ever broken up with her, which is apparently a lot. Regardless, I was at this show and I was watching these performers and it hit me. These people are not doing what I want to do, what I am passionate about, but they are putting themselves out there! I want to write and the best part about writing is that I can lay my heart and soul for the world, but I am doing it with the written word and have the privilege of anonymity. But these people that were on stage, doing that exact same thing, opening themselves and their lives out for criticism and they were rocking it. They were good, the crowd loved them. And if they could put themselves out there without the benefit of being anonymous, why can I not put myself out there behind my blog?
Watching others be fearless made me want to be just as fearless. I have always hated myself for being crippled by my own fear. It is very sick and very cyclical. I hate that I am afraid, but I am too afraid to change it. With each passing piece I write, I am feel I am one step closer to someone realizing that I have no idea what I am doing. That me putting words on to paper is nothing more than that, simply words on paper. I am terrified that one day someone is going to realize I am hack and they are not going to hold back in telling me so. One day some is going to tell me everything I already fear and know. But, I also realize that letting this fear hold me back is cheating myself and the person that will mostly likely one day force me to come to the harsh realization that I am possibly not as talented as I think I am, or my friends tell me I am.
And as if the universe were pushing me in this direction, you know, in case my Earth shattering epiphany wasn’t sign enough I opened a fortune cookie that told me “Keep in touch with some form of the arts”. Even the damn Chinamen is all up in my business, pushing me to do the only thing that I am good at doing.
So, I have to say “Thank you” to Flavr Blue, Watsky, and the Chinamen down the road, Grand Peking, for putting that damn cookie in my take-out. Now, I just need to hold myself accountable and follow through on my most important promises, the ones I make to myself, and maybe one day when my dreams come true, I can thank myself for ignoring that damn voice in the back of my head that will not shut up about how hard I am going to fail and how terrible I really am. If I can quiet that bully that lives inside me and I can overcome my fears, I think I stand a real chance of making something of myself.
I totally identify with your sentiment here. Even though I have written plenty of original material in college, it was all for my classes or extracurricular activities; nothing was of my own mind for the sake of writing. (I did have a LiveJournal, which I don't count. It was more or less a vehicle to bitch about the dramas of my life. Seriously interesting stuff.....not really.)
ReplyDeleteI have been told by a lot of my friends and family as well that I have some talent in this field and that I should pursue it. But just like you said, the proposition of failure is terrifying enough to keep me from trying too hard. Because if I do give it my all, put my heart into it, and end up failing, I'll be devastated and embarrassed. (Yeah, yeah I know; I'm a total pussy.) And much like you're gaining confidence from your blog, I'm starting to do the same. I'm practicing my composition and nitpicking over my proofreading and editing, working on my story telling in active voice rather than passive, and various other faults I find in my own writing but no one else points out to me. Because they don't notice my errors, they are being polite and not mentioning them, or they're all in my head, I'm not sure.
I find it funny that we are essentially going through the same thing concerning our writing and whether or not to pursue it heavily. This totally confirms the old adage, "Great minds think alike."
AJ, I am glad someone else can relate to how I feel.
ReplyDeleteI have a hard time editing because I can only handle so much of my own writing because it is either too bitter, too depressing, too whiny, too whatever. Uhg. I find myself obnoxious and therefore can only handle so much of myself.
I had the benefit of being a paid section editor in fake college, and while I loved being able to be creative, it was in a more controlled environment. I wasn't laying my soul on the line, I was just telling people why my opinions and way of thinking is better than theirs. Luckily, we also had paid editors whose job it was to make sure our grammar and structure, so I was more free to focus on the works of others instead of focusing solely on my own work.
And who didn't have LiveJournal for that reason?! Damn, I still have my LJ and occasionally update if only because no one reads the damn thing so I can say whatever I want without worry of retaliation.
Keep writing, if only to encourage me! I will try and do the same!
Relate to a lot of this. Thanks for posting it and good for you for putting it out there. The internal bully is a mofo, indeed. I haven't learned how to kick his ass yet. And he still picks on me from time to time. But it's been a while since he gave me a wedgie, or a swirly, or pip-slapped my forehead while passing me on a crowded school bus. I have no idea what might be the metaphorical/emotional equivalent of those real-world bullying tactics. I guess I just mean to say that I've learned how to deal with the self-doubt and fear a little bit better over the years. Writing shit down in a way that names my fears has helped. So have cognitive behavioral therapy-based seminars (of the non-cult variety). And I have found the writings and recorded talks of Pema Chodron to be quite helpful. This is ironic because I never thought I would have something in common (e.g., reading Pema Chodron) with those "hippie-dippie Buddhist wanna-be posers" that I used to silently (and lamely) snark at from my not-particularly-lofty perch.
ReplyDeleteAnyhoo, like I said, I think it's important for me to ( try to ) get jackson pollock-y with the qwerty keyboard every now and then. It's good to capture it for posterity, even if, when posterity gets here, I'll probably *still* be the only person who gives a flying rat's arse about my writing.
I am glad to see so many people relate to this. Is comforting to be in a room full of other self-doubting types, even if that makes me a little bit of an asshole for wanting my misery to have company.
DeleteRegardless of what my friends and family say, I am pretty sure that I am the only person to cares about my writing, even if I find myself obnoxious. I hope others enjoy my writing. I would like to have an impact on readers the way certain authors have had an impact on me, but I know that I cannot write hoping for that to happen. If it does happen, that would be super, but I have to know the chances are slim to none, and none just skipped town!
However, I am still not sure I can get on board with all the cognitive behavioral therapy-based seminars. I have a feeling it would be a little too much like yoga for me. I cannot go to something where they tell me not to judge myself as they are also trying to help me and maybe fix me a little. If I were not judging myself I wouldn't be there in the first place. So, they are either trying to put themselves out of a job, which I don't trust, or they have no fucking clue what they are talking about...which I also don't trust.