The Obnoxious Sensitive Artist Thing

This is one of those days that reminds me why I quit writing.

 It’s not that it’s going badly, it’s not that I can’t think of what comes next or that I’ve written myself into some corner.  It’s actually been going fairly well.  It’s Tuesday morning and I’m up over 5K words already this week.  I know where I’m supposed to go from where I left off. 

It’s not the writing itself, it’s what it does to me personally.  It’s who I become.  I’m sure whoever might read this doesn’t really need to hear my particular version, but here it is, for my own purpose. 

I have to open myself up too much.  I can’t just see some movie play out in my head and write down what the characters do and say.  They have to feel things.  And everything that happens happens because someone felt something, and reacted accordingly which caused someone else to respond, and act, and so on.  And in order to write that, I have to feel all of it.  And the more emotional the material, the more emotional the me.  Until I’m just completely vulnerable, and affected by the smallest of imagined slights.  Until everyone who crosses me takes their chances with my temper, until the tiniest of roadblocks makes me want to sob in frustration.

It doesn’t help that I’m this way by nature, that it’s always been a struggle for me to keep my mind grounded and positive and not to let it coast its own way toward dread and dark thoughts.  And when I write, it’s so much harder because I purposely put myself in that vulnerable place.  I purposely think of darkness, and I purposely allow myself to experience negative emotions through my own fantasy that translate themselves to negative thoughts in my reality.

There was a time in my life when I decided that it just wasn’t worth it.  I wasn’t good enough, nothing would come of it, and I was only hurting myself by continuing. 

Supposedly I’m better now.  I’ve got a grip now, I understand things now that I didn’t before.  I’m old enough to separate fantasy from reality.  So it should have been ok.  I should have been ok.

I’m not ok.  I feel like I’ve been kicked in the chest.


Filed under insecurities, me me me

3 responses to “The Obnoxious Sensitive Artist Thing

  1. seanachi

    It’s this very immersion into the feelings of you characters that makes your work so compelling. But it sounds like you need a break. I hereby prescribe chocolate and a book or movie that bears no resemblance to WOTM.

  2. Becca (Eurii)

    I second the break! Don’t burn yourself out.. Remember that this is supposed to be something you have fun with, and don’t let it turn into a source of bad feelings otherwise you will just stop writing all-together again.

  3. Pingback: I Know What You Are and I Know What You Did « Hunting High and Low

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