The Dreaded Burnout

[railenthe]

I'm about ot confess something that I never thought I'd say:

I'm burned out on writing.

All this time, all these years, I lived the life of a writer. But now, it's hard for me to post even a status update.

I don't know how I got burned out on writing, but every time I think about doing it, I feel my brain deflate, and I just can't drum up the excitement for it that I used to have.

And that scares me.

I've been writing since I was like 12, pretty much nonstop. It was like the stories were begging to get out of my head and into the world...but now it feels like I'm not doing anything.

I hope this passes. I pray this passes.

I miss how good writing used to make me feel. It doesn't do that anymore. It feels like working with an asshole boss, except in this case it's me that's my own asshole boss.

Please let this pass.

Comments

[kuro_pantsu]

I too know the curse of creative impotency. It sneaks up on you one day and you don't notice it until after a while, you find you just draw a blank. You have the document or the pad open. You have the pens. And the ink runs dry.

My attempts to deal with it involved having multiple projects to try and trickle down what little passion I could generate but it doesn't cure the problem, just generates a little productivity with no strong feeling.

I absolutely hear you on the asshole boss thing - and because it's you you can't even think to yourself how you're going to one day spite your boss because your boss is you and to do so would be a pyrrhic victory. Damn you, me!boss. Damn you to Hades.

[railenthe]

Right? I wanna stab me!Boss for this bullshit, but I'd be stabbing ME if I did that, and that is the opposite of productive. Plus, I got I think maybe ONE of my knives right now.

As it stands, I'm forcing myself to take a break. Don't look at writing, don't think about writing, just Do Not Force It until I figure something out. In between, I'm considering taking up different hobbies to keep my mind off of the inability to get any inkslinging done. If I can put my brain on something else, maybe it'll come back one day.

The scary thing is this tops itself off with me as a crisis of identity. I've been writing since seventh grade. At one point it impressed the principal so much that she gave me an engraved Cross pen (those aren't cheap!) in recognition of my writing. It's been a part of me for so long that I don't even know who I am without writing.

…I do realize the irony of typing basically a novel in response to this.