Getting over Writers Block

They've all had it. Shakespeare, Ginsberg, Rankin, Rowling and now Evans.

Writers block. The inability to write a single word let alone a sentence, paragraph, blog or even God forbid, a book.

I've had 'the block' for the past month. If I'm being honest, since I went to Glasgow this summer.  

Even before, when I started my full time job, it's been a struggle to marry a brutally honest account of struggles with recovery/addiction with a 'grown up' job.

The two just don't mix. It was easier when I was in the midst of a mid-life crisis. When I was skint & wondering what my future was. It's so easy to be honest when you're on your knees.

But then you get a full time job, start earning a regular wage and suddenly it's easier to forget/hide/put issues on the back burner. "As long as I'm earning." you say to yourself, Suddenly those burning issues become less important when the wages roll in. Same if you get laid I suppose. "Well, I cant be THAT bad can I?"

Block.

In addition your head shifts. Suddenly priorities change. What seemed like important issues no longer become so. The daily job becomes all consuming. Space in your head is full of work not spiritual questions. The urge to bare your soul decreases. Suddenly you think things through. What are the ramifications?

Block.

I'm the kind of writer who writes from the heart. I don't plan or structure a topic or theme. I don't prepare a beginning and end. I just write. Thoughts, streams of consciousness, feelings. I attempt to turn my head inside out. Sometimes this is good, other times not so. Thoughts should sometimes remain thoughts. I have put mine out there which I forget others read as the truth.

So when you have a little time. When you consider the impact. When it doesn't become immediate. Emotional. Revealing. When you over think the result I can't write. I couldn't write. I didn't write.

I had no urge.

Block.

And believe me over the past few weeks I have experienced all kinds of feelings, addictive emotions and actions. From chronic low self esteem, regret, less than, comparison, staring at the past, masculinity, acting out, pain, emotion, bulimia, co-dependency, joy, pain, laughter, financial insecurity and also some good stuff too. Weddings, family, praise, promotion etc.

There have been so many reasons to write. So many life events that have been hilarious, horrific and everything else beginning with H. But nothing. I couldn't write.

Block.

Life has happened both good and bad but boy has it been noisy in my head. The addict in me has been raging. Sometimes when I have known. Other times when it has controlled me.

I just haven't been able to write about it. Some of it because I'm embarrassed, some of it because I'm ashamed, some of it because of my position and some because I just haven't known how too.

Block.

After 13 years of sobriety I have begun to realise how deep some of my other addictions/replacement behaviours are ingrained. It just depends if burying yourself in work and status is enough to paper over these cracks for a period of time or if they are to be addressed. How long can one keep up the façade? Days, months, years even?

I was recently called the sanest insane person they had ever met. A neat description. Sadly I took it as a compliment even though it really wasn't meant that way. Still nothing.

Block.

I have to be honest. I've been suffering from low esteem recently. I attended a member of my family's wedding. It was genuinely beautiful. Very joyful. Full of love, spirit and tons of God (bit too much for me to be brutally honest but hey, who am I!!)

What did it do? It made me think of me. Being a self centred alcoholic of course it did. It's normal to evaluate your own life when you attend weddings. Especially ones who are 19 years younger than you. But it's not normal to really max out on it as I did. That's very 'addicty'.

What did I evaluate? Well that my entire life was a fuck up of course. That I was 42, hadn't committed, no kids, no mortgage, no roots and had spent my entire sobriety self seeking around as much pleasure I could find from outside sources. I essentially convinced myself I was a waste of space, that my sobriety was useless and I had fucked around for too long. I had pretty much hid from life. Only an addict could come to such a ridiculous, negative and harmful conclusion on their own. Get why addicts kill themselves now?

Christ the self hatred and regret bit me hard. And what did I do? Well, not the normal thing of brush it off and move forward. I'm an addict and prone to terrific bouts of self pity, self hatred and self sabotage - so I used anything and everything to punish myself. Lots of wonderful wacky and way out ways. Some severe, some really subtle that nobody in the outside world would ever know. But they were there.

And that's why I couldn't write. That's why I had.....

Block.

Because I don't know what or how to change. I didn't have the emotional answers. Yes I had the intellectual ones. Look back but down stare. You can move forward from today. Make goals and stick to them. Bla blah blah. But I didn't have the answers I so desperately want to write a successful blog and book. The pressure I placed on myself was too much to write. I just didn;t and still don't have that urge to change. I haven't yet hit a bottom.

Hence, what's the point in writing. If its the same old shit every time. I need to change. Boo. I want to change. Boo. I can't change. Boo. Boo hoo.

Block.

It's a pretty desperate place to be.

Block.

But in my experience you have to go through the ringer. You have to put yourself through that time and again to realise and understand. You are where you are. No point in sugar coating it. No point in 'faking it to make it'. Just hope and pray to become willing to change. Just hang in there and try as you might until you do. Just hope that you get the grace of God and it drops. Just make a decision one day and BOOM.

There is nothing I can do about the past except learn from it.

The wedding brought up all kinds of emotional stuff from childhood. It made me think much of my emotional maturity is still stuck there. Sometimes I am a kid in and adults body and the self sabotage are just adult ways of having a tantrum against yourself.

This is the shit I've been in. All whilst playing a normal person in an adult world. Work, family, relationship etc.

Block.

This morning I started reading Brene Brown, 'Daring Greatly' - Dare to be vulnerable. It made me think of certain things.

I did my day at work, had a meeting with someone rather inspirational. A workaholic who has built up an empire, lots of money and a life but was racked in pain about where to turn next. It gave me the energy and impetus to write.

She said to me, 'you really need to write a book Nick' You're writing and expression is amazing. You have such a gift". Yet another person to add to the list. "So why don't I?" - I thought to myself.

I'll tell you why. The real reason? The deep truth. The truth that I didn't even know myself until today. Because I'm scared.  That's why. Good old fashioned fear. Fear of success. Fear of trying. Fear of hard work. Fear of failure. Fear of doing. Just fear.

I don't have the answers. Maybe I never will, but you know what? It feels fucking good to be back writing. I've missed it. I really have. I've missed me too. And you. I lose my identity when I don't write. I become normal. And god forbid, my ego hates being normal, even though I am. Even though I am one of you. Even though I really am not special and different my ego will tell me that by writing I am, and even just a sniff of that in my mind makes me feel a whole lot better.

Because no matter how good or bad this piece is. I've done it and God, isn't it good to die trying rather than wondering?

Thank you Brene Brown, I've dared to be vulnerable and thank you Amy at 4pm, you really inspired me.

I'm back. I just hope I stay

Nicholas E