I occasionally get anxious. Yes, earthshattering, I know. It’s normal to experience doubt or anxiety when so much is at stake. Writing is all I’ve ever wanted to pursue, and as someone who overthinks and overprepares, I find myself tripping over my ambitions lately. I don’t necessarily believe you should suffer for your art; however, I’m beginning to question that notion!
Like others who experience anxiety, it can sometimes be annoying or downright debilitating. It almost always requires me to step back and address it. Sometimes with great success and other times not so much.
Right now, I find it incredibly frustrating. Logic dictates that fulfilling a dream and following my passion should be enjoyable and have me smiling all day. But anxiety doesn’t follow logic, now does it?
I’m at a point where I can devote time and resources to being a writer, but admittedly I am an emerging contributor to the world of storytelling. One of my goals is to be transparent with my experience, hoping it will help others in their creative journey. Connection with others is the thing that I care about in this world — family, friends, colleagues, kindred spirits, etc. I can’t think of a better way to connect than by sharing my very human experience with other humans!
(DEEP BREATH)
Lately, I have fallen into the old trap of “getting what you want and trying not to screw it up” phase. But scratching that trope a little deeper has revealed something a little more.
Being an entrepreneur and answering to no one else is entirely foreign to me. I’m a little terrified, to be honest.
Who’s going to make sure I meet my writing goals? What if I spend too much time going in the wrong direction creatively?
Scary. Uncharted. All on my own.
These are the things I longed for and wanted above all else. Now that I have them, I’m driving myself crazy.
I am risk-averse for several reasons: previous cut-throat corporate environments, colleagues with ulterior motives, undermining managers, etc., have all left me with a low tolerance for failure or embarrassment.
But what I realized is that none of those things matter now. The pieces of me that were previously chipped away aren’t vital to my writing career. Sure, it may feel that way, but it’s a mirage.
To make that accurate, I need to diagnose my roadblocks. I see two types:
Foundational Issues
Situational Setbacks
Foundational issues are your core operating system. These are the deep-rooted things that got baked into you during your formative years. It could be how you were parented or how your first love treated you. Loss, grief, and any strong emotion can form your foundation. We sometimes call these core memories.
Situational setbacks are the things that happen to you. It could be the promotion you didn’t get, the feedback you received, or the way a family member let you down.
Regardless of what type of roadblock, you need to remove it.
The secret lies in resilience. But bouncing back is a mindset you cannot embrace until you let go of what’s occupying your mind.
For me, that means giving my anxiety a place. Stepping back and allowing it to run around until it gets a little tired, and I can talk to it like the errant child it is. Then I can figure out if this is something situational that will eventually pass. Or is it something in my foundation that I need to shore up?
I believe foundational work is personal and profound and should be undertaken with a pro’s guidance. Situational setbacks are a little easier to tackle and sometimes resolve themselves through time, sleep, and perspective. And if they persist, talk to your anxiety. Yes, that sounds a little whoo-hoo, but I’ve found that it works.
In time, you’ll be able to notice, categorize and address anxious thoughts because life doesn’t get easier; you learn to handle hard better.
I realized that what I fear is very common and not the final word on my ability to succeed. I need to acknowledge it, but being in uncharted waters is where great discoveries will be made. Deep breaths…
Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash
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