First of all, I must admit that I don’t have an answer to the question in the title of this post.
This is me, daring to reach out to readers of this blog who might have forgotten all about me to say: I am sorry that I abandoned you (and myself). I didn’t intend to come back. Life got difficult and I gave up. And I am not proud of it.
This shouldn’t have happened to me!
I am the kind of writer who reads self-help books and meditates and prays. I am the kind of writer who gets up at 4am every day and cranks out 2000 words of prose that may or may not end up on the cutting floor when I get my editor hat on. I am the kind of writer who drinks an unhealthy amount of coffee between holding down a full-time job as a busy manager in a large public sector organisation and pursuing an impossible dream.
Well, at least I was that writer – for a while. During the last 16 months I was no writer at all. I wasn’t even a person. I was an employee by day and a mess by night. I was weak, scared and stressed. Spiraling down.
Looking back at it now, it all seems overly dramatic and even somewhat comical. Who was that pathetic creature who refused to sleep? Who abandoned herself in the blink of an eye? Who crumbled to dust in the face of adversity? Who forgot all she learned from the books on her Audible account?
It was me. Takes courage to admit it but that’s the truth. The resistance is real and no one is safe. Not even the most dedicated writer. Not even the most studious reader of self-help books and inspirational quotes. Everybody is vulnerable at times.
But as for me, I am back at my keyboard with some lessons learned. These lessons did not come from a book. They came from life. And whilst I have many regrets about not using my writing to work through the pain, I do not regret the perspective I have gained. I can fall apart and put myself back together. And if I can do that, then I can write books.
Screw the resistance!