By Guest Blogger Dawn Wright
Writing is therapeutic. What writer doesn’t say that? It’s the truth. It’s there for us whenever we’re happy, sad, excited, bored, confused, angry–whatever. All we have to do is choose our story and pick up the pen (well in these days, the keyboard).
So if writing is so therapeutic, then why am I missing my therapy session?
I’ve even posted on FB recently that this few-day break that I’ve taken has gotten to me. It started with me preparing for a quick trip to NYC and me purposely leaving my laptop at home. Why would I bring work on vacation? Nope! I love writing but we have to place healthy limits on ourselves. But then I get back into town and I feel just as guilty as a mom who’s gone out of town for fun without the children. Except moms usually race to embrace their children upon arriving back home. But I didn’t. I just sashayed straight to bed at 4 a.m after the long drive home like any other tired person, woke up at 3 p.m. and headed out shortly after, returned home after 7 p.m. and never recommitted to my work. And then the guilt settled in.
I told myself Monday that I would get back to it and not to worry about it. Monday came, and I never worked. By nightfall, I assured myself that on Tuesday I would. Tuesday came and I didn’t. Some would reason that we all need a break from writing from time to time. But I’ve never once fed myself the lie that I deserve a break. Never. If I did, it was never in 2016. Maybe I agreed with others for argument’s sake, but I never believed that. That kind of thinking makes you complacent and lazy. So what’s really going on here?
Did you guess: stress, second guessing one’s self, hormones because the “time of the month” is on the horizon and it makes a woman feel like crap, feeling unorganized because you realize just how much of a circus writing can be, hating how deadlines fly away quicker than birds from the nest?
Deadline? What deadline? Deadline smidline. Maybe I’m rebelling. Maybe I say I want my first book to drop but I sabotage the moment with more edits. You know, the good ole never-ending edits. Am I making the need to constantly edit up? I don’t think I am! Maybe I’m missing therapy because I’m not happy because I’ve let the guilt rob me of my happiness. Do I only show up to therapy when I’m happy? I’m a pretty happy person. Some people go to therapy on any given emotion. Maybe I’m not that kind of girl. Maybe I need my roses by my side before I go to my session. Maybe happiness is my strong card when writing.
And psychologists say that unfortunately, most people seek therapy when things are sour. But since writing is my therapy, I guess they would love me for getting it right. However, writing doesn’t work that way. We must tell the story regardless, because the characters are waiting. They are our children. And in real life, children come first. So maybe it’s time for Mama to run to her children with open arms and embrace them, because they want to be shown attention–unconditionally.