Although I’ve shared some of my less-than-awesome life thoughts in the past, I always try to remain infinitely positive. Why? Well, it’s partly for you and partly for me. I presume that you, my loveliest reader, are a beginning blogger or someone looking for their life path. Perhaps you come here for practical tips, or perhaps you come here to spend time with a like-minded soul on the path for their big, meaningful life’s work.
If you see me struggle, maybe you’ll feel dejected, breath that “harumph” of a sigh, and feel less awesome about who you are and where you’re going. That’s the EXACT opposite of what I want to happen! Therefore, I try to keep my contemporaneous conundrums to myself.
But then…I don’t write, because I don’t know how to be upbeat and cheerful at the moment. I feel sullen and sorrowful in the worst, Hamlet-ian kinds of ways. No one wants to read that. No one.
So, I don’t write because I’m not cheery, then I’m not cheery because I’m not writing, which then cycles back in and on itself in a terrible train wreck of a path.
That’s no good.
Part of this comes from the actual, clinical depression with which I ride around in life. It’s always there in my purse, next to me on the passenger seat, or, in the worst of times, as a giant, all-engulfing helmet that occludes my vision.
It can become incredibly challenging to stay focused, and then this weird thing happens:
I stick a pin in my life raft.
This whole freelance writing and blogging gig is my life raft. It enables me all kinds of fancy and fun things like working from home, wearing pajamas all g-d day, traveling on a whim, focusing on my very own and very particular interests and fancies, hand-picking the best clients and projects, eating breakfast for lunch and lunch for breakfast, and many, many more.
I started freelance writing because I couldn’t find a single freakin’ job not in food service or sales. Here I was with this shockingly expensive degree in English and I wanted to do something with it! My critical thinking and writing skills are off the charts. People need writers. People need thinkers. I’m desirable.
Plus, I never wanted to feel stuck in one job or one place. As a military brat, being stuck somewhere makes me panic. However morbid it may be, I always go back to the scenario of the death of a family member. I’m a family-oriented person. If someone passes, I’m going to the funeral and I do not care what any employer says. What if I couldn’t attend a funeral because of a work commitment? What if I couldn’t go on vacation, attend a wedding, or take advantage of the little luxuries in life because of some time clock?
Personally, that’s not an option. The money-making constraints in my life will not stand in the way between me and what I want.
That’s a resolution I made exactly a year ago when I opted to go down the sole proprietor/independent contractor/freelance mindworker road.
With all of these strong, personalized resolutions, I should have no problem mustering up the gumption to fulfill all of my work obligations. Right?
But, I don’t. I don’t want to sit down and type out of all of these blog posts, newsletters, and sundry items. So, I do anything else. I bake, clean, or organize when I’m still feeling positive. When I’m feeling depressed, I go into all-out couch potato mode. It’s a terrible sight. I can power through more hours of television viewing than I’m comfortable admitting. It’s a complete shutdown justified as a way of entertaining myself that doesn’t really do any such thing. I throw my sleep schedule off by staying up way too late to see how this last home renovation goes, and then kick myself from waking up too late to submit posts on time.
When this starts happening, I have to remind myself of these things:
- I chose this path.
- These people are depending on me.
- Passive aggressive is no way to live.
- This isn’t fun for anyone.
- Life could and should be better.
- It’s better to quit a job than to be fired.
- Money is no object until it is.
- Life will be better the sooner you start acting.
Even when my depression starts slicing away my desire and ability to stay on target, there are ways to pull myself out. Usually, it requires some introspection and the guts to end a project that I’m fighting against for some wicked reason.
Deadlines and depression might be how it goes sometimes, but I still have the ultimate confidence that this is where I want to be.