If I may quote myself from about a month ago…
“I did not want to start a blog and have random, unrelated posts. I certainly didn’t intend to talk about my feelings. I didn’t want a sappy, self-absorbed blog that flagrantly displayed my neurosis and emotional instability.”
(I’ll come back to this).
I wanted to mark my return to blogging by making one blog post a week. I would commit to one post a week but I had a desire to post twice or thrice weekly. I’ve been trying to develop a system that allows me to do this. I considered taking 1-2 days to write and one more day to post. But I haven’t been committed to taking the time during the week to write. My weekly deadline is Sunday evening, but last week I posted on Monday and this week I may not post this message until Thursday. I’m already slipping away from my goal and I JUST started blogging again. This makes me afraid I’m in danger of retreating back to not posting at all.
I think part of the problem is that the Sunday deadline looms over my head. Throughout the week, I think about the topic I want to land on and I try to plan when I’ll have time to write. But as the week progresses and the content doesn’t materialize, I start to get worried that I won’t make the deadline. I have thoughts like:
- I don’t have enough content for a blog post
- I didn’t complete the research I needed for this post
- I should post what I have on Twitter
- I don’t have enough time to really do a good post
I start procrastinating and worrying and getting stressed out – which is not an ideal place for me to be if I need to write.
In addition to the procrastination factor, I also struggle with settling on a topic. Some of the things I’d like to write about include:
- An analysis of the 48 Laws of Power
- Lessons from my sleep Master Class
- Analysis of Harvard Business Review Articles
- Usage of short stories to cover ideas and concepts I’m interested in
My principal reason for starting a blog, and a podcast, and another blog, and another podcast, and now another blog, is so that I can share the lessons I learned with the world. Not because the lessons are profound, but because I need a place to document them and if I can help someone else in the process it’s a win-win. I want to write in a way that is compelling and that helps me connect with other human beings. But as much as I want to write about what happens during non-REM sleep, there are other, bigger issues that I struggle with everyday, right now. Things like:
- I have a problem with picking my skin – mostly my feet, but I pick my cuticles, too. It’s a self-soothing behavior that has gone wild.
- How to approach sexuality as an adult – I’m about 70% sure I’m not going to hell because I’m gay (took me a long time to get to 70%), but what does that actually mean for sex? Every type of sex I’ve had – straight premarital sex, gay sex, anonymous sex – or even sex I’ve wanted to have I feel like God or society tells me it’s wrong
- Debt – I’ve had it for all of my adult life and I’m at a point now that I think I’ll die with it. I’ve accepted it because it doesn’t seem like I can do anything about it. And that seems depressing when I say it out loud.
- How to handle friendships that might not be healthy but that I’m afraid to let them go because I’m afraid I’ll be lonely and I won’t be able to find new friends.
There’s an aspirational part of me that wants to share “smart” stuff but I feel like I need to write about the stuff that’s really bothering me. It’s definitely easier to connect when I’m being authentic.
To facilitate this, I decided to explore the art of storytelling to better share my concepts with all of you. I think there’s a way to tie in concepts I’ve learned in a book to something I’m experiencing in my life. Instead of focusing on creating the perfect content that’s interesting, I want to tell my story. I want to find a way to integrate the content into a larger narrative about my life and how I manage it. I have to crawl before I can walk but I want to start practicing.
I am disgusted by the thought of giving this up again. It’ll feel like I’m giving up on myself, and I don’t want to do that. It’s time to get back on the horse.