An Ever-Present and Wholly Unreasonable Fear

I’ve skirted around talking about anything too personal for the last two months. Part of it’s certainly that I’ve been busy, but a lot of it is that, for all my talk in that first post of 2023, entering this year with an open mind and no expectations has been really difficult – and I’ve struggled with admitting that.

There’s been some good though. My supporting role in this new project has progressed more and more since the last time I spoke about it, and I’ve been genuinely happy to work with this team.

While my plans to grow my career on an international level haven’t moved forward yet, I’m certainly cognisant that these things will take a lot of time. I’d be lying, of course, if I said that this doesn’t make feel insecure on some days, but that uncertainty passes fairly quickly.

Those feelings, however, are a symptom of the bigger problem.

I’ve not had time to work on my novel – or even the time to get into the headspace to work on my novel. I knew this was a possibility and I knew that I had to watch how I dealt with it, but it still hit me harder than I expected – though not in a way that I figured it would.

It’s not that I think I won’t be able to eventually get it done. Instead, I’m worried that I won’t be able to write it in a timely enough manner to capitalise on the fact that Work-Life Balance and “Down Into the Waters” have been receiving a decent amount of positive attention.

I’m afraid that people are going to stop caring and, when they do, the dream of one day being a full-time author will become all the more unobtainable. And, yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds. For one thing, the mainstream press I’ve been receiving, while wonderful, isn’t exactly a deluge of articles and interviews. And for another, even if I don’t strike while the iron’s hot, it doesn’t mean that my hopes and dreams are going to come crashing down on me.

Which is a nice, level-headed thought to end bring this to a close, sure – but I’ve been writing this post on and off for the last month, and at any point, I could’ve ended it on a completely different note. I’ve been struggling with these feelings for a while now – and I still am, no matter how much that rational part of my brain tells me that I don’t have to. That’s not going away.

I spoke earlier about watching how I dealt with my feelings and, if nothing else, I’m now at least aware – in a very real sense – of the kind of work that I need to put in to keep myself in a decent place.

I took this photo a couple of years back, but it seemed to be the most fitting one to use

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