I'm not technically part of the Insecure Writers Group but I did have something I wanted to get out. By making it public I'm owning it. And then I can do something about it.
I used to have so many ideas. Not all of them were good. Not all of them turned into something, but ideas. I looked at the world and SAW things.
Now I am empty, blank.
It’s so hard to think of something, to string words together. Where did my ideas go? Where did my seeing go? I have to wonder what is wrong with me, will I ever get them back. What if I don’t? What if I’m a fraud and I’m reworking the same ideas over and over again? What if there is nothing more to me?
I hope this is probably stress talking, and the preoccupation I have with finishing this house. This move that has been happening for two years has really hit me in the writing department. I can only hope that if I keep plugging along, and once all the stress has gone back to normal, I’ll get my ideas back.