I haven’t been writing. Not at all. Not one word for myself. I have given all my words elsewhere. I have painfully typed up the same words, the same call to actions, the same sentence structures for my office job. Used the same inbred sales vocabulary. Stunted my texts at the same length. I performed plastic surgery on the same thought. Over and over and over.

Hey, I wanted this.

This is what I repeated to myself for more than a year when exhaustion first settled in my mind and spread until sleep didn’t cut it. I said a lot of things to myself, including:

  • Hey, I made it. This is my dream. Getting paid for writing.
  • Dude, I moved out on. I wrote myself out of a life I feared, still fear, I’ll lead until I die.
  • I’m learning a new trade.

Read More What Do You Do When You’re Afraid of the Words?