I’ll be honest, I’m struggling with everything at the moment. Everything is suffering. I’m not entirely sure what happened – I just feel exhausted and overwhelmed and like I’m not very good at anything. So I just kinda drifted off for a while there…
It feels as though time has been sped up and I can’t keep up with any of it.
Days just fall away from one another, falling away from me. There’s no anchor, nothing to keep me from floating away.
So what’s caused this? Well… I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I burnt myself out but I carried on, spurred on firstly by momentum and then habit – it was easier to keep things as they were than it was to work out how to change them.
Now I’ve lost that momentum. The mania that kept me writing – how on earth did I find time to write so much?! – has quietened down. I’m spending more time looking at blank pages than I am actually writing down my stories.
And I never thought anyone would read this. Don’t get me wrong; I love the fact people are reading it. But I’m not used to this and I freaked myself out. I knew one person would read it and I kept him in mind while I was writing but then all of a sudden there were so many amazing people and you all keep telling me I’m something I can never live up to.
I’ve become too scared to write because I feel like I’m going to disappoint you. And I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
I thought separating what I have to say would fix things. I thought it would solve the problem of the irreconcilable differences between all of the different things I’m trying to say. I hadn’t worked out that the one thing that reconciles the differences is me. I don’t need to break everything in order to fix it.
Are you still there? I don’t really blame you if you aren’t.