As the start of school gets closer for me (Monday!) after a bit of a break this summer, I find myself feeling almost panicky about it.
Not so much about the class or the work. Or even getting it all done. Somehow I manage to even though I’m a terrible procrastinator.
No, it’s none of that. I worry about my writing.
When school starts, it takes over all of my free time. So when Char is napping or the girls are in bed, I’m studying or completing assignments. Which means, by the time I’m done, I’m fried. So long stretches go by where I write very little or nothing because it feels like school zaps the creativity out of me.
It bothers me the start of each semester, and yet I enjoy school and love that I have goals to work towards.
But secretly? Waaaaay down deep inside is that little girl who used to want to be a “famous actress”, only ride horses – never drive cars because those are bad for the environment 😂, who wrote and told, stories, started writing all kinds of books, and believed one day she’d be an author –
in that place there is a part of me that would love to throw caution to the wind and just write. Write and only write for a good long while and see what happened with it. Write the book, write on here, make that my goal instead of school.
But as lovely as that sounds, practicality wins. I’m almost done with my degree. I’ve worked so hard to get here. I know I want to be a therapist. I do. I can’t just be a blogger forever – I feel like I need to accomplish something else. Something tangible – that I can tell people I do and it’s consistent and real and I worked hard for it.
Why doesn’t writing feel that way for me? Because I love it? Because I am afraid of it in some way?
I don’t want to lose this – all of this that I have and love – in the midst of that. It feels like it always takes it away from me for at least a while. The hardest part of it all is, in the middle of my creative slump, I’m totally ok with not writing or doing much of anything creatively. Knowing I’ll feel that way makes me a little more frantic to find a way around that. To push myself to write even when I feel like there’s nothing to say.
Like tonight. And yet it helped just to say this.
Maybe this time I’ll find a way to balance both a little more equally.