If Suicide, Why Not Success

If a guy is willing to give up on everything in his loves to kill himself, why isn’t he willing to give up everything to make major changes to achieve success. The simple answer, of course, is that he has lost all hope. Look at it from a different angle for a minute before you take the next step toward your death. Many of the most successful people in the world (not all, but many for sure) found success in the depths of despair. Would it surprise you to know that it takes the same level of emotions and commitment to throw everything away and start over as it does to throw everything away and kill yourself? I’m not suggesting that you get a divorce, quit your job, and move to a different country. Most of us that have been on the verge of suicide, though, have already lost one or more of those things. Do you remember the saying “when God closes a door, he opens a window”? It sounds like a lot of spiritual BS to me too, but I eventually figured out what they are actually trying to say there. So, you lost something important in your life and it’s tearing you apart, this is the best time to knock off some of those barriers that have been stopping you from pursuing your dreams. What have you got to lose, besides that which you were willing to sacrifice by taking your own life.

 

My experience

Hope. That’s the emotion that ties essentially all suicide cases together. The person lost hope. In most, but not all cases, they lost ALL hope. Sometimes they only lost hope in the one, most important, dream they had. When I lost all hope in seeing any of my dreams come true, I wanted to die. Not to stop the pain, but to stop being a drain on those around me and the world as a whole. I had nothing to offer that others wanted and, by taking up space and resources, I used up the things others could benefit from if I wasn’t selfishly trying to hold onto a dead dream. But it occurred to me that I judged those that chose to help me based on criteria that they couldn’t consider. Through the loss of all that I held dear, I decided that I was worthless and, therefore, anyone who helped me backed a bad bet. Maybe those that chose to take themselves out of my life felt I was a bad bet, but those still investing in me probably saw something else. And for the first time in my life I started to wonder if I myself listened to the wrong people. As soon as the seed of that thought sunk in to my soul, it immediately sprung into a full-grown tree. I had already coached many of my friends through the same thoughts and feelings so I had nurtured and fully developed it. I just hadn’t planted that same idea in my own heart yet. Of course, I had been listening to the wrong people. Many people I had trusted to have my best interests in mind only saw what I needed to fix based on their own agendas. Once they gave up and left, I realised that there were also some that where trying to help me find my own agenda because they truly believed in me.

This is the point where I realised that I’d be willing lose all those people and things I had been holding onto because I thought they saw potential in me. But all they saw was how to fix me by their own standards. Once I let them go and began to focus on what I had left, wonderful things started to happen. At first, I didn’t think I had anything left, but by not having anything left in my life that I cared about, I found an empty space that I could fill with whatever I chose. I started filling up my life with the things and people I had wanted for a long time but never felt I had permission to pursue. I soon found that most of those things were also just junk to fill up my life and lead me down the wrong path. So, I let go of those people and only kept the ones in my life that I felt truly supported me and helped me along the path to my goals. Then I started trying things that I had more recently found an interest in. I threw out those activities and people that didn’t help me forward my other goals. Each time I iterated this way, I kept just a little more of the people and ideas that fed my other goals and eventually ended up with enough positive things in my life that I could find hope.

The key here is to keep anything that helps you forward a positive goal even if you have some goals that you never find support for. For example: I have been keeping the things and people that help me be a better writer and those that want to share positivity and love in the world, but so far nothing I have kept in my life has helped me find any financial security. So, it’s not about keeping the things that give me the one thing I want most but to keep anything that helped me achieve any of my goals.

 

If this is you

You’ve lost hope. Now what? Do you really believe that it can’t get better? Maybe you just don’t care if it can. Maybe what you’ve lost can never be rebuilt or replaced. Death could allow you to let go of the dream, and the false hope. But why do you need death for that? Aren’t they already gone? Isn’t that why you feel this way? All you’re holding onto right now is the grief and loss. But those aren’t tangible and keep slipping through your fingers. That’s supposed to happen. It’s a process. Let it happen. Reach out to those around you: friends and family if you have them. They care and want to help, but most of them just don’t know how. If you don’t find support there, join a group. Any group will do if you can find a connection within it. Try a depression group, a grief group, a church group, a recovery group, or, if your can find one, a hobby group. If one doesn’t work, join a different one, or join a couple. If that starts to wear thin and you still haven’t made much for connections, try online groups or even just listen to audio books or podcasts. What you’re looking for here, isn’t people who will listen to your grief and sorrow, but people you can relate to who you can listen to. If you can listen to their grief and sorrow without judgement or negativity, then you can build connections with them.

Those connections are important because that’s where you will start to see who you actually are instead of what others want you to be. You’ll begin to see characteristics in them that you can relate to. Out of those characteristics, you can sort through and pick out the ones you haven’t felt free to pursue before. With a little development, they can become your new direction and even a source of hope.

This is where the choice becomes important. What are you willing to give up in order to find hope? What are you willing to give up on to consider suicide? Are you willing to give up the expectation that someone will come to your rescue? What about your sadness? Can you let go of those people that expect you to fix yourself based on their own formula? If your answer is yes to these questions, why do you need to die? Letting go of these things will also free you up to pursue hope. The hardest part is keeping your commitment to let go. But the upside of change instead of death? You won’t hurt as many people and those you do hurt are probably the ones you need to let go of anyway. Yes, you might still die. You might lose everything. You might hurt all those same people. You may end up on the street fighting to find food. But you might just find your place in this world. You might find love. You might find the money you need to support yourself. And you might find success. In death, you’ll only find failure.

 

If this is someone you know

First, although it’s true, they are seeking attention, it isn’t that simple. Refusing to give them the attention so they’ll “just grow up” will most assuredly confirm for them that you really don’t care. It will push them further into their depression and closer the real act of suicide. Even if you tell them a million times how much you care, refusing the attention they are seeking will deny those words a hundred times over. They need that attention, and far more than that, they need your love. The true love that lets them vent their hurt, especially the hurt you might have caused. Even the hurt you didn’t cause but they blame on you anyway. They need to know that their hurt counts. That it means something because it does mean something, especially the misplaced blame and anger they have. It means they need help. Help they don’t know where to find. Help they may not believe exists. They need the attention of someone that will listen without judgement. Someone who doesn’t always have the answers, but will stick by them and support them while they search for those answers. Someone who won’t try to “fix” them.

Be the first connection they can trust. It might look like they have other support systems in place, but if they are contemplating suicide, they don’t trust them. Be that connection for them. Build the trust they need to open up about the real hurt. They don’t have to cry to be talking about the real feelings, but if they’re just ‘telling their story’, listen and let them talk, that isn’t the hurtful stuff. Don’t dig for detail and don’t get them to ‘talk about their feelings’. Just listen, respond when its appropriate, and keep the conversation open. It doesn’t happen all at once. In fact, it probably won’t happen in the first sitting. They got to the point of suicide because too many of their ‘friendships’ didn’t turn out to matter at all when they really needed them. Be the guy they can count on. Set your boundaries and stick around for the long haul. At some point, they will start talking about things they like and dislike. That’s the beginning. As they sort through the hurt and pain, they will eventually start to remember the good things. They need to process that pain and they aren’t capable of doing so alone. They will come out of it, and when they do they will begin to see who was still there when they needed them. Be the foundation they build the rest of their life on. Or, if that is too much responsibility, with proper boundaries, you will be the support they need to build their own foundation that won’t depend on you.

 

What it means

When you get to a point in your life that you’ve lost hope and you’re prepared to sacrifice everything and just die, remember there are more than one way to put and end on something. Death is only the most commonly thought of solution. It’s not the best, or even the easiest, solution. I promise that some of those people that haven’t helped or listened to you would still be greatly saddened by your departure. Death is admitting failure. It’s quitting. Maybe that’s ok with you. But, just for a moment, imagine what you could find if all your dreams came true.

If you let go of those same things that suicide removes you from, you can find the freedom to finally pursue those passions and dreams that were out of your reach while you held on to people and things that didn’t support you. By filling your life with the things that support and forward your goals, you begin to create positivity in your life. Eventually the only people you will have in your life are those that help you chase your dreams. As you reach for your stars, you’ll have the support, happiness, and money that you need to reach even further. Do me a favor when you get there: remember that others are still struggling to find hope. Help them see it. Be their last hope if you must, but help them.

If this offered you some hope, or showed you how to offer hope for someone else, drop me a line and open the conversation. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Why I Write

Because I have words that don’t belong to me. Some people write because they have an uncontrollable need to. Others need to sort out their thoughts. Still more have experience that others want to take advantage of. I have words I have been loaned to me that are meant for someone else. Every writer has a motivation that is their own, and most of us also have external factors that represent some priority to us. But at the heart of every writer is a purpose bigger than the culmination of us, our paper/computer, and our words. The process of writing takes all those things and creates magic. If a writer takes the time to put words on a page, its because they have something to say that needs literary expression.

I used to spend a large amount of time and energy trying to convince people that I had all the answers, that if they would simply pay attention to what I say they would have happier, more productive lives. Sounds unique, right? Yeah, right. That’s what every arrogant person with an inflated view of their own intelligence in the history of arrogance has done all through history. Then one day I realized that all of the wisdom that has survived the ages and has had an influence on our world was written down, not told to whoever could be strapped to a chair across from the wisdom provider. Once I began writing stuff down, I found I no longer had the need to verbally spew my ‘wisdom’ at everyone I met. After one of my gems got on the page, that particular piece of insight no longer wanted to attack unsuspecting bystanders. And the side effect? It’s all there for anyone that actually wants to hear (or read) my ultimate wisdom, forever-ish.

Another format my writing used to take was the stories I would share in social situations where I felt someone else was getting social recognition or coolness factor when they shared their experiences. I would often have a story that I thought related to theirs, but of course, I would add a few interesting details to make my story just a little more impressive than theirs. Sometimes, my truth would be better than their stories. For some reason, though, I never put as much passion or emphasis on my true experiences. They just didn’t seem as cool. Again, as with advice, once I started telling stories on paper, my need to impress others with my creativity in person lessened. I still use my creativity on people, but now its usually in the form of bad dad jokes.

I don’t write to make people listen to me, or to impress people by my creative genius anymore. I tried that for 15 years and kept failing over and over again. I couldn’t even convince myself of my own brilliance; it’s no wonder why people weren’t falling over each other to hear my words of wisdom, or getting in fist fights to hear my story telling. Now, I write about my real experiences. I include the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I try to finish my blog posts with the lessons I learned and how those lessons might help someone else. With the fiction I write, I try to tell stories that have a point of view that isn’t common or isn’t well understood. I’d rather tell the story of the evil wizard or the terrorizing dragon than the night in shining armor.

My blog posts, as you might get if you’ve read my front page, are about reasons and ways to love all the different people in your life. Although I have no training or education in this field, I’ve discovered a huge gap in the self-help/self-improvement market when it comes to men that didn’t start with any advantages. I have seen and read hundreds of articles for, by, and about all kinds of women’s issues. That makes me super happy because women have historically gotten a raw deal for generations, and in many places on the planet, they still are. But when it comes to men, the only stories I hear are “from rags to riches”, or far more commonly “from riches to rags to riches”. The problem I have with almost all of those stories is that almost exclusively those guys had some type of advantage over the rest of us: they either had an education (even if they never used it, they still got to go to college/university), they had a drive/determination that isn’t common among most of us, or they had a support group that kept them going when they wanted to quit. I haven’t heard any advice for guys that start with nothing, don’t believe they can do anything, and don’t have anyone that believes in them. So, I have felt for years that guys like me, and I’ve know a large number of others like me, are basically screwed. I’ve been going to counselling for 5 years and they haven’t done anything to help me in any of those areas. In fact, one of my councillors told my wife that she would probably be better off leaving so she did. I’ve been in 12-step programs and was told “trust in ‘God’s’ plan”. I went to priests and pastors of various denominations, all of whom told me the same thing as the 12-step people: it’s not in my control. I went to shrinks who all told me that my head was probably screwed up (they didn’t actually know for sure) so they gave me drugs. Some professionals I went to gave the same advice they give their female clients: work on yourself, let go of the pain and find some reason to believe in yourself.” All I heard in that advice was “your connections to the world are hurting you, go be by yourself and learn to love yourself” In the end, none of them did a dam thing. Everything I heard required me to have some feature or skill I didn’t have and couldn’t learn the way they were teaching it to me. When I started writing down my thoughts in a blog for others to read, that’s when I started understanding what I was missing. I needed someone to believe in me in a way I was incapable of doing. Much like an editor will see my writing from an outside viewpoint and be able point out mistakes I might not catch, a friend can see good qualities in me that I disqualify or completely ignore.

So why do I write? Because I can share my wisdom and creativity with people that want to hear it. And because, by sharing my experiences, other people might learn what it’s actually like to build yourself up from nothing by learning to love those around you. Looking at the positivity around you really will make you a positive person. Take everything negative you see or experience and, once you process the negative feelings, learn to see the silver lining, even if the silver lining surrounds the darkest and worst things you have ever felt. Learn to accept, process, and let go of the negative feelings, then find, grasp for, and hold on to the positive ones, especially in other people. The expression “turn the other cheek” doesn’t mean turn and walk away it’s more like “turn and offer them the other cheek as well.” If you can learn to let the negative feelings have their place, you can then learn to give some space to the job of loving the unlovable and helping the helpless. This is why I write: so others will see what I have learned about loving others and so that other guys can see what it’s like to build yourself up when you don’t have anything to build from.

If the writing bug has you, or if anything else in this article strikes you, comment, or otherwise drop me a line. I’d love to hear from you.

Epiphany

My last post about unconditional love changed my purpose a little bit. It was by far the most responded to post I’ve had yet. I can’t stop thinking both about the post itself and the comments by the people who read it. The level of passion it stirs in me, coupled with the discussions it has spawned in my own social groups show me that this is a hot topic that I can build on. I’ve thought of many additional points I want to add to that article. It also created in me a whole line of related subjects I want to write about.

I listened to a podcast last night that said something like “the thing that you want most to change about the world around you points you to your purpose,” and “the activities you do that makes time and your troubles disappear for a little while is the talent you should use to fulfill your purpose.” Those two things sound all new age and full of spiritual BS, but if I take them purely at face value and ignore the spiritual implications, they become something I can action. The thing I most want to change is how we, as the human race, view and treat ourselves and each other. And the activity that makes time disappear is translating from vague clichés and technical jargon into plain, relatable language. That’s what motivated me to start this blog in the first place. I want to share my experiences and be as transparent as I can so that just maybe I’ll be able to find the unconditional love and acceptance I believe every person deserves. I also want to show others what unconditional love looks like, as well as how and why each of us should give it.

I won’t get into the subject of unconditional love much in this post except to share my epiphany about my purpose. I will start with a little background though. A year ago I lost my wife, job and home all in a matter of a couple months. And although everyone would agree that those things hurt, I already saw the end of each of them coming months earlier. My subhuman self image didn’t let me believe I deserved any of them anyway, so I wasn’t surprised when they all came crashing down at once. I believed at the time that it only proved how worthless I really was. So, yes, those things hurt, but only in that they reinforced my opinion of myself. What I hoped for beyond all reasonable hope was for unconditional love. I couldn’t love myself because of how much I had betrayed myself and let myself down and hurt those around me, so my only hope to get love was to be loved despite my worthlessness – unconditionally – so that I couldn’t wreck it or lose it. Everything crashing down like that only served to dash those hopes for unconditional love. Yes, I responded with the usual depression, feelings of hopelessness, and suicidal thoughts, but not because I felt unloved or worthless. My response was to give up on myself. My last, best hopes of finding my place in the world all vanished at the same time with such finality that I didn’t even feel most of the pain. I spent the next few months in what I’ll call ‘emotional shock’. I didn’t start to feel the hurt until months later. All my suffering, I believed, could have been prevented, or at least mitigated, if my wife, my boss, and/or my landlord would have had some unconditional love for me instead of ending our association. I understand that, logically, I had nothing to offer any of them. Hell, I didn’t then believe I had anything to offer anybody. So, I agreed with all of them ending things. They weren’t going to get anything from me anyway. This all might sound like I’m blaming others for my pain and suffering. I’m not. What I’m saying is that by offering unconditional love to people, we might help them feel lovable at times in their lives when they are unable to love themselves.

I did keep my membership to the dance club I was in, I also joined a writers’ group. Both helped me to start seeing value in myself. It wasn’t long before I started to feel the unconditional love I had been longing for all my life. Not in the intimate way I had been searching for all the years before I met my wife. Nor in the ways I thought my wife and family should give me. Instead, I started feeling the innate love most people have for each other. More than that though, it felt as though it didn’t matter who I was or what I’ve done, it felt unconditional.

During this same time period, a couple old friends contacted me to catch up. One of them was especially concerned for my personal health and safety. He has kept in regular contact with me ever since, regardless if he was the one initiating most of the contact. Eventually, I started feeling the unconditional nature of our friendship. It turns out it was there all along, but I didn’t know it.

Over the past year, I’ve held onto these feelings and used that to build some self worth. I’ve began to see myself as deserving of self love simply by existing as a human being. Through that, I’ve started to believe that other people might find real value in my company and talents. That helped me a lot when it came to writing. I know I can write, and write well. Just because I can write, though, doesn’t mean anyone will care. If I want to make a living as a writer, someone needs to want what I’ve written enough to pay for it. However, I won’t get to the point where anyone will care about my writing if I don’t write. If I keep writing, eventually I will write something that someone will pay for. I recently started to focus on my blog as the next step on that journey. I have written a few posts sporadically over the past few months about my personal and professional experiences with depression and other mental conditions. The content always hits a cord with the writers’ group, so I decided to focus on that and make a regular thing out of it.

My epiphany comes just last night when I listened to that podcast. When they said a person’s purpose comes from the one thing they most want to change in the world, a light went on in my head. I want people to love each other unconditionally. The post I wrote a few days ago hit a soft spot in my social circle and started a lot of conversations. The post is about unconditional love. Many of my friends had something to say about the subject. That tells me that people do have an investment in their perception of what unconditional love means.

The new direction I’m going is to talk about different mental conditions and personality types and include the why and how to love them unconditionally. Most of that isn’t new, although, most of what written is by women and is less relatable for men like myself. What will set my blog apart will be how I write them as well as the point of the articles. They will be why you should show unconditional love to the different people in your life and how you can do so without undue risk to yourself or those around you. And I will write from a more masculine point of view so that men will relate better and hopefully break the pattern of silence us guys have around mental and emotional disorders. Although, by all means ladies, please enter the conversation as well. It’s not open conversation if it excludes anyone at all.

If this or any other subject stirs you to conversation, drop me a message. I’d love to hear from you.

Am I really a writer?

Its been nearly a year now and I still don’t make any money as a writer. I understood when I started that it would take a lot of work to make it. What I over estimated was how much work I would be able to put into it without any reward. It’s been hard to make it on my own, especially since I’ve lost my primary motivation: my wife. She always managed to say or do just the right thing to keep me going.

I decided last April, while I was still employed with a day job but after my wife left, that I wanted to take my writing more seriously and write professionally. I started by discovering what that means and what options I had. Then I looked online for ads looking for writers. I found and answered one. A few days later I got a positive response. I began the process of gathering info and wrote a couple of sample articles for the client. They liked what I wrote and asked for more. It turned out to be a large contract and they seemed willing to pay my fees. Then nothing. Communication just stopped. I haven’t heard from them since.

I’ve had potential clients contact me since then and I’ve also had people refer some to me, but they all ended up the same. In the end, none of them paid me anything. I did get a contract as a content writer for a month or so which gave me some experience (and cash) in that field, but ultimately, it wasn’t for me.

After that I sunk into a deep depression for a few months and the only reason I stayed alive and had any social contact is because my writers’ club had need of my management/technical skills. I had agreed to head the anthology committee for last year and the deadline for publication was the end of October. A couple of the more prominent club members made efforts to keep me focused. Quite honestly, on those nights when I wanted to just die or fade out of existence, it was my commitment to the club’s anthology that was the swaying factor. In my case, volunteering really did save my life.

The long road back out of that dark place started the evening in December that I read my own story at the book launch our club had at a local business. Standing in front of 25 or so people and reading my first ever published story really made me believe that I could be a writer. So much so that it only took one other person reading (I was the first reader) for me to return to enough of my former confidence to get back up in front of the audience and do the standard speech of thank you’s and accolades to my writing colleagues and the incredible support team that helped me out on that project.

Since then I have continued to write sporadically and search for my place as a writer. It’s still a long hard battle and the only rewards I have gotten so far are praise from the other writers in the writers’ group. (I must acknowledge here that I was employed as a content writer for a month and I have also been helping a friend with his paperwork for pay for over two years, but I wouldn’t have tried either of those without someone else first approaching me with the idea.) I have a website now and another one I’m still working on. I’m closer and closer to having all the tools that I need. The experience I’m gaining is tremendous so I know I’m still early in the game. But I get more confidence everyday as a writer and every week I write more and more. It’s coming, it’s something I think I can do, and it’s something I love. Here’s to doing what I love even if it means I end up living on the streets and eating out of garbage cans. But most of all, here’s to life, love, and all the friends I’ve made along the way.

If you want to talk about this or any other articles I have written, drop me a line and start the conversation.

Connection

Tim Horton’s is my favorite place to write. I get just enough ‘people watching to feel connected, yet the people I see don’t want to directly interact (most of the time). I find it very hard to write in complete solitude. It’s much easier for me to write if I feel like I’m writing for someone other than just me. So this, like so much of my writing, is for you dear reader. My connection this time is a fellow writer from my writers’ group. He has graciously agreed to let me share his writing time. Although this isn’t the first time him and I have done so, this is probably the most productive one yet. We have sat in near silence for 10 minutes now without feeling like something should be said.

Enough avoiding the question. Its been three months since I wrote the last one of these. I’m even having a really tough time writing this one. That first paragraph went quickly, but these last couple sentences took three times longer to write just because I’m distracting myself (and my writing partner). What is it stopping me from writing? I don’t have a definite answer, but I can invent all kinds of things that are wrong with me that could explain it. I know, however, that those excuses are just more ways to tear myself down and justify my self loathing.

I’ve discovered recently that I don’t need “a good kick in the ass” like most people offer as the best solution. For me, that usually ends up with me feeling even more worthless and disconnected. What I need is someone that truly believes in me and positively encourages me along the way. I’ve been told “I’m not going to babysit you” or “you’re not a child anymore” or “you just need to do it” and other things of similar themes. What all those points of view neglect is that many people (maybe most people?) aren’t motivated by ‘self driven determination’ or ‘thrive under pressure’. Many of us need the encouragement that comes from positive, short term motivation. Some of us even need it on a pretty constant basis. Hence, I sit in Timmy’s feeling connected. That way I get more writing done.

It occurs to me that this might need more explanation. My depression is based on my feelings of worthlessness. That means there is no point to writing for myself. I’m simply not worth it. (remember this is how I feel in my heart. I know in my brain it isn’t true) What this means is that I need to feel like I’m writing for someone else, like someone needs to read what I have to say. So I sit here in a coffee shop because it makes me feel connected to the world around me and lets me believe that someone out there needs to hear my story. Sure, there are more distractions here than at home, but there is also more motivation to write. If, like now, I’m lucky enough to have someone to sit with as I write, then I’m in the perfect mindset to be most productive. I feel the strongest connection and have the strongest reason to write. I feel like someone wants what I have.

This is the reason I have the best success in jobs where I’m a part of a team that works together as opposed to teams where each member works alone toward a common goal. If I’m working hand in hand with one or more co-workers, I’m far more likely to shine. I usually even end up leading these teams because my strongest skills are highlighted. The teams where each member has different tasks to complete in order to contribute to the goals of the team are situations where I am less likely to succeed because I am still working alone and self discipline is more important for success. In those scenarios I have a hard time staying on task and I’m far more likely to let my team down. My depression is based mostly on my professional failures. As a writer, if I don’t write I’m not much of a writer. Academically, I understand that my depression affects my success as a writer, and my success as a writer affects my depression. So I know it’s a vicious circle. The only way I can think of to break the cycle is to find enough connection to motivate myself to write.

Although writing is essentially a solo venture, I have a story to tell that won’t stay inside much longer. But in order to get that story out, I need to find a way to write it. So here I sit, in Tim Horton’s, trying to hold onto my connection to the world around me, and fighting to get a few words on the page. To those out there who also evaluate yourself on your career success, I hope you find my words helpful. Drop me a message and we can discuss this at more detail.

A day in the life

My depression seems like a distant memory now, but I can feel it lurking just under the positive attitude I’m holding onto most days. It hasn’t been much of a hindrance lately because I’ve been able to keep regular contact with much of my social support, most of whom are very encouraging and uplifting. I’ve successfully reduced the impact of the few people in my life that have a hard time being positive and have made some happy memories with the important ones. All in all, I’m soaking up the love and joy right now so that I have something to cling to when my depression raises its ugly head.

For now, another evening of planning and learning is under my belt. Now its time to get down to some serious writing. I’ve been focusing on writing with and for other people lately and haven’t done much publishable work for myself. I have made some progress on my two novels. I’m editing one of my short stories to enter in the annual anthology for our writers group. I’ve even started co-writing a book that has a very fun beginning. So I have done my own writing, just nothing publishable for a while.

This journey into life as a freelance writer isn’t one I’d recommend as a fun pastime for someone who is a little bored. It is taking a lot of work to get little reward so far. I am, however, committing to this as my career path so the work is easily worth it to achieve my goals. I spend a lot of time and energy researching the best ways to make a living as a writer. I spend some time everyday weighing the different directions I could go. I give my social network a good amount of energy because that’s where my best inspiration comes from. And, of course, I spend some time everyday writing.

Some days I’m ultra focused and make good headway on multiple projects and other days I only have enough energy to keep my social contacts active and revise my plans to reach my goals. Most days though, I make some progress in some areas and just let go of the things I didn’t get to. I’ve learned that, while accountability is a great motivator, sometimes I just need to accept that I can’t be perfect all the time. Learning to accept my failures and rejoice in the small successes has been my biggest saving grace most of the time. I’ve had a habit in the past of dwelling on the ‘accountability’ and missing the small victories.

Today I’ve finished this post, received some professional advice, did my daily social media posts, and edited some more of my short story. I’ve checked off a couple of errands off my list and still managed to spend some time with my son and take my dog for a walk. I’m not done yet, but even if I were, I could call today a success.

The Writing Experience

This is my journey with depression as a writer. This is not a solution, but my experience.

I talked once about the association between writing and depression. This last week has been an education for me. I haven’t posted anything on LinkedIn or Facebook (my other side) for a week although I felt pretty happy during that time.

So why didn’t I post something when this is a key part of my branding strategy? Anxiety. I’ve felt happy on the surface, but I realized today that I was choosing to be happy and ignoring an imminent and game changing personal problem. Ignoring it might be too strong of a word. I have been thinking about it almost every waking moment and I haven’t been able to come up with a solution, but I’ve continued to act as though I had not a care in the world. I talked to my friends to get support, I went out into the world to connect to people and humanity, I sat down at my computer to write, I took my dog for walks almost every day, and I took some self-time to reward myself for making it this far. All of those activities seemed empty and fruitless though and just couldn’t seem to get anything productive done. The one moment of clarity I had yesterday, I did complete one important task, but when I went to write something – blocked, my laptop ran out of battery but the coffee shop I was in had no power ports, neither did the next one and by the time I found a place that did, I lost the drive to finish and I just sat and zoned out on my phone. I felt as though God or the universe or karma or something was stopping me from taking another step.

I sit here in Tim Horton’s today trying to piece together a solution through writing about it. I’m fighting the desire to just give up and play some more phone games. Or maybe I should edit this article and make sure I get it just right even though I know that doing that before I have finished writing it will only distract me from finishing it and likely succeed in corrupting the point of writing it in the first place.

Push through I must. If I want to believe in myself, I have to prove to me that I can do the hard stuff when it counts, when its hard, and especially when I don’t want to.

My psych defined depression as the ability to feel only sadness or frustration. He defines anxiety as the act of worrying about a problem so much that it affects how much time and attention is given to other activities. In my case, anxiety is what triggers my depression. One problem I can’t solve leads to other problems being ignored which leads to believing I can’t do anything right. Depression.

Here I am writing this out more as a journal than the post I wanted to write. I wander what my point is or is the act of writing it the point. I know journaling is good for my soul, but it isn’t enough to just help my soul. I want to help others that struggle the same way I do. I want to be a ray of hope and I don’t think I will be as bright if I wait until I have the solution before sharing my experiences. This is me working through the hard stuff and sharing it with the world.

Please message me if you also experience obstacles in your professional life that make you feel stuck or suck the energy out of you. Maybe we can help each other.