It really hurts to say it, but I need to suspend writing for a while. I’m not sure for how long, but that means I will not be able to complete National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I got half way through it with a lot of momentum still in me, but sometimes we have to adjust to an ever-changing life.
My disappointment can hardly be expressed in words, and not just for the suspension of one of my passions. Something infinitely more dear to me needs more attention.
I’ll admit one of my weaknesses is fear of failure. Or perceived failure. Or that my best is not good enough. And as irrational as that concept is, I can’t help but internalize certain situations that don’t go as I’d hoped or expected. And even worse is when I believe someone else is suffering because of my actions or inactions.
I have the best support system in the world: my family. My friends. Which is why, ironically, it hurts more to ask them for help. If I’m surrounded by so many wonderful people with incredible talent, it’s bound to rub off on me and/or my family. So why would I need help?
Stupid thoughts, I know. But in moments where I need to vent, this is where my mind wanders. And I realize that I will have considerably less time to myself to vent, let alone catch a breath.
Since I’ve struck out during this round at bat, beset by the nasty curveballs, I’ll lick my wounds and change into a cleaner set of clothes. Ready for the next set of curveballs, or sliders, that I’m certain will be thrown at me again very soon. I just hope my passion for writing will still be there when I’m ready.