The shower thought of the day was “You have to stop thinking ‘I want to be a writer’ and start going ‘I am a writer'”. I then realized after having this thought that I think wanting to be a writer is silly. Not for other people. But for me. It is. It’s silly. Growing up I always expressed myself creatively. I was in plays, musicals, took voice lessons, played piano, taught myself new musical instruments. I played games with myself in my head to get things like homework done. I pretended I was a world famous journalist whose important essay on geologic rock formations (or whatever) for my earth science class wasn’t really for earth science, it was for Time magazine (or whoever) and it was going to rock the world. I played that game with myself a lot. My writing assignments were for important magazines or books. And it made it so much more fun to do them.
Somewhere along the line I got it impressed upon me that being creative was not a career. Sure, you could have a fun hobby of that, but to be successful and financially stable you must have a real job. I also got a bit pushed into graduate school (that’s a whole other post) and while I wanted to quit halfway through it, I didn’t. I told myself I had to finish. And I did. But that didn’t stop me from hating what I studied and not wanting to have a career in it. Strapped with astronomical student loans that I didn’t really understand how large the payments on them would be, I have now been stuck in a career and job I sincerely dislike in order to make ends meet. Such is life.
So when I tell myself I can be something else, I feel stupid. I feel like a kid wanting a unicorn and to be a fairy princess for a career. Being a writer? Being in the creative arts for a career? Ha! That is for someone else who didn’t fark up their money situation like I did. That cannot be for me. It makes me die a little inside. Part of me that needs expression and fulfillment through creativity has been quietly crying inside my heart for that past 13+ years. I also tell myself I’m too old now to switch things up. I had a chance when I was a teenager, or even in my 20s. But now? In my 30s, I’m too old to make a change. I have to be an adult now. I have to be responsible. And how can changing careers be responsible? No no, I have to just let my creative urges be a hobby and just be happy with that.
But I can’t. I just can’t! Spending my days at an office job that is stifling my creativity and boring beyond belief is not a life I can live anymore. So I have to be the change right? Nothing will change unless I change it. I can’t just want to be a writer anymore, I have go out and be a writer. Or a musician. Or whatever. Obviously I can’t throw all responsibility into the wind. That would just result in more distress. It wouldn’t be fair to my family either. So it adds another piece to the change it up puzzle. How do I keep my day job and do something else with enough dedication that I may be able to make a career of it one day? This is a large conundrum. It’s the place where my eyes start to glaze over and there is a buzzing in my ears and I feel beyond stressed out and want to throw my hands up and give up. I think it’s the reason why NaNoWriMo became so important to me this year. And why the fact I’m failing at it is making me even more dejected. Somehow I pinned my hopes of changing my life onto completing NaNo. If I could really dedicate myself to writing (almost) every day for NaNo then maybe I can be committed enough to changing my life that I can actually change my life. I’ve already documented a lot of the hurdles I’ve felt here. Today adds more. How do I stop feeling silly and childish for having a dream and pursuing it? And why is that even stopping me? Who am I silly and childish to? My parents? Forget them – they had their chance to influence my life and they put up roadblocks instead of helping. My husband is supportive. So am I worried friends will laugh and go “ha, silly Rebecca, always wanting to do stuff she fails at.” If it’s true I keep failing it’s partially, if not all, because I keep stopping myself. By over thinking. By not living in the moment. By imagining the future and thinking it’s impossible. I just need to calm down. I need to stop trying and start being.
Easier said than done.