A week or two ago I wrote a post about having cheat days when you are trying to develop the habit of writing daily. This post is going to be on a similar note but goes a little further. I may end up rambling here.
Sometimes life just gets in the way of what you want to do. There are days where I don’t want to go to work, or clean the house, or even put away laundry because I feel like writing instead. I guess that is the selfish part of being a writer. You just want to sit in your pjs and write all day long, but you can’t shirk the responsibilities of the real world. There are bills to be paid. Laundry that needs to get done. And we both know that no one wants to end up on Hoarders. You need to take care of real people, real relationships. You can’t keep kidding yourself with wanting to write all the time. Because I know a secret. Even “full-time” writers don’t get to write all the time. They’ve got homes to keep, family to have dysfunctional relationships with.
We can all claim there isn’t enough hours in the day, but there is something you have to really consider. Am I just not using my time well? Nine times out of ten you probably aren’t. I know I’m not, but then again I’ve never been good at it. I just let life get in the way. Stuff happens, I get into a numbness for a few months, and all that time management goes right out the window. I keep my head down and go through the motions, as if my writing doesn’t matter. I don’t have the time, I keep saying. It’s probably because when I go to that place, I don’t make the time. I just let it go. I let my writing go.
I let my writing fall on the wayside and then before you know it I feel like a fake. I ask myself how can I say to anyone that I’m a writer when I don’t make the time and when I do it’s really bad writing because I am so out of practice. My heart twinges a little when a coworker calls me Stephen King. How could I ever live up to that name? I keep letting life get in the way. I know I need to stop letting it, but I don’t know how.
Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever write again, and that makes the numbness worse. Much like a self-harmer, I believe that I need to write to make sure I feel something sometimes. If I don’t it only gets worse, and I end up having the same things happen to everything else in my life.
So guess that gives you a glimpse as to what the blog title means. I write to live. I live to write. I keep writing to prevent life getting in the way. To prevent that numbness from taking over. But sometimes I just don’t have the time.
I just hope that I stop letting myself not have the time to write. To work on this blog. To reach my dream. To keep writing for you, my readers. No matter how few ya’ll may be. I just hope I keep dreaming.