Despite my continued reassurances to myself that writing as a process is just putting words on a page, I still struggle every time I sit down to write a newsletter.
I read the newsletters of other writers that I admire- Katherine May, Jesse Meadows, Hayley Nahman, Ayesha Khan, Sarah Wilson- and I am equally delighted and despairing. They are doing things with their work that I desperately want to be able to do, but feel I will never be able to achieve. Not with a brain that is as slow and as clunky as mine is these days, weighed down so heavily with the chains of inflammation and an on-repeat tape of anxious and depressive thoughts.
Meanwhile, the emails about ‘how to grow your Substack’ keep flying into my inbox, like a nagging parents reminding me of all the responsibilities that I have if I want to make anything of my life. All I want then is to bury my head under the pillow and just go back to sleep, putting off writing anything for another day.
There is a word to describe how I feel right now: overwhelmed.
My body itself is overwhelmed. I spend the majority of my day trying to calmly navigate the adrenaline surges that occur over and over again, a process which can be triggered by something as simple as a thought. Dr Clare Weekes is helping me to understand that this is simply because my nerves have become so overly sensitised from chronic stress that they can no longer tell the difference between an actual threat and just an input. Knowing this is what is happening helps, but trying to sleep or get through the day when your heart is pumping, blood is rushing, skin is buzzing, muscles are twitching, stomach is churning, and you feel completely overtaken by fear, is an exhausting process.
It leaves little room for me to think about big ideas. Or put words down onto a page in the way that I wish I could, like all the writers whose newsletters I devour. I have to accept that this is what is happening for me right now. But it always so goddamn hard to accept you need to slow down when we live in a world that constantly tells us that to slow down is to miss the boat, to ruin your chances of ever succeeding, because whilst you’re recovering, everyone else is getting ahead and claiming all the ideas. I still want to write. I journal like crazy, putting spiralling and tangled thoughts down on a page, where I can try and tame them, to make some sort of sense of them. It helps a lot.
This morning, what poured out was a reminder to myself that ‘I am failing at writing’ is a subjective statement (as majority of our thoughts are). Yes, I could fail at ever being able to financially support myself writing. I will likely fail at ‘growing and audience’, or writing in clever metaphors and engaging people with expertly crafted stories. I will definitely fail at coming up with any original ideas. But what I cannot fail at is writing in itself. I do it every day. I have been doing it every day for as long as I can remember. Therefore, I am not failing.
At this time, I am inspired by people like Morgan Harper Nichols and Mark Manson, people who send out short yet meaningful pieces of writing on the regular (Manson markets his newsletter with the line ‘5 minutes that could change your life). Whilst I know they write long-form pieces regularly, this is a good reminder that the writing you send out into the world can take whatever form you want it to. Nichols, for example, sends out an email every week day, featuring some of her digital art and her thoughts, often in poetic form. Her daily emails are a bright spark in an overstuffed and shouty inbox, a chance for gentle reflection.
These writers focus on the simple stuff, one idea at a time, and their thoughts on it. Their pieces aren’t chock-full of hyperlinks and quotes of people who have said things better than they can. They just believe that they have something to offer, and people who think the same will get something out of their thoughts.
I know I can manage that right now. I’ve come to learn two fundamental things about myself over the years: I seek out knowledge like a dog seeks out his favourite treat, and, I love sharing that information with people. It is how I try to connect with people, and connection is something I crave more than anything at the moment, because being sick can be a really lonely business. Fear is making it difficult for me to live my life on a lot of fronts at the moment. All I can do is tackle it where I can, and build my courage back up. The more often I tackle it, the less control it has over me. Therefore, short and frequent is the best strategy for me right now.
When I sat down to write this time, trying really hard to face my fears again, I was thinking about failure. And so that is what I wanted to share today, my thoughts about failure. What one considers a failure is all in how you define it for yourself. I am learning to break the problem down and think about what it actually means to fail. What is it that I am truly afraid of? Is it really as many things as I think it is, or is it just one aspect of the problem? Because when you’re suddenly only dealing with a smaller problem, and therefore a smaller fear, things can seem far more manageable.
Stay brave.
Lou
Failure only occurs if you give up on yourself, your dreams and passions - something that you’re not doing. You’re putting in the hard yards and challenging the anxiety and negative inner voice every day and pursuing what makes you feel whole. You’re not a failure. You are stronger than you realise. Every day you’re a step closer to winning that battle against your physical, emotional and mental enemy. Reflect on this article link below to see you’re actually ahead of the game.
https://writingworkshops.com/en-au/blogs/news/10-hugely-successful-authors-who-got-their-start-later-in-life
I read this piece several weeks ago when you had just “published” it Louise (yes - I reckon it’s okay to use this word in this context eh?...as another way to acknowledge someone bravely “putting themselves out there” into the public sphere?).
Anyway, I’m fairly new to this Substack thing...and tbh, a first-time engager/user of any form of “Social Media” at the ripe old age of 43! (I suppose these ‘comment’ sections constitute engaging in “social media” right?).
So, as usual - I digress. So yeah - I only discovered Substack as I’m a fan of Sarah Wilson’s work and I somehow ended up on this site after reading her two most recent books (I’ve never commented on any of her posts or any others until yours today btw).
Anyway - I then noticed your original image/logo down the bottom of one of Sarah’s comment sections, and I clicked on it as the image spoke to me. I think you’ve removed it now and replaced it with your photo (which I applaud as a courageous and self-affirming move btw).
So I found your piece here, and no one had commented at that stage. And because I’m not a “commenter” (commentator?!)...I.e. until now - I reckon I maybe/probably just “liked” it and left it at that.
But today I woke up and was mindlessly scrolling through the “notes” section or some other ever-growing wormhole in the Substack offerings (which incidentally, is why I’ve always intuitively avoided Social Media). So yeah - I just found and read the piece where Rae (do I have her name right?) interviewed you for her newsletter. I connected with a lot of what you said - especially the perfectionism stuff.
I also connected with your piece (and site) here all those weeks ago....especially the overwhelm stuff. Obviously, perfectionism and overwhelm are so inextricably linked.
I too have had multiple “diagnoses” in my search for reasons to explain why I am like I am. Which by the way - I know is perfectly okay in all its not okay-ness at times etc :).
The most recent diagnosis is/was ADHD - a form of “neurodiversity” that had never once occurred might actually apply to me. I’m still not sure how I feel about this one - but I’m currently trying it on for size. I’ve even recently dabbled with the medication path. However, my anxieties around the side-effects (and/or long-term health implications) of these types of ‘stimulant’ medications has me wondering if this is a path I should continue to explore...
Anyway - it’s kinda ironic (is this the right choice of word?) that I’ve titled my own recently-created Substack - “Lost for Words”. I’m such a reader of others (usually via a good ol’ tactile actual real-life book!). But here I am writing this huge diatribe!...as the truth is - my mind can be so overactive and bursting to express itself that it kinda ‘jams up’ as a response. Overload. And then I’m left saying, and writing, (and often feeling)....nothing.
Like so many people (and you included by the sounds of things)...I often really doubt my “voice”, and have never shared any of my ‘writing’ on this site (or in any other public arena). Is it shame that stops me? Fear of judgement? Most likely contender though = fear of being found out as the ‘dumb-ass’ I’ve always secretly believed I am??
I couldn’t believe it this morning when I read that you also beat yourself up for getting “point seven five” less than you were striving for with your (very limiting/reductive/dehumanising) end-of-year-12 “score”. Me too. Exactly that number. 94.25 when I was aiming for 95.
It’s funny isn’t is? Not ha ha funny but so strange that we thought a number could somehow define our worth all those years ago?
I’ve actually managed to (mostly successfully) ‘positively reframe’ this perceived (at-the-time) failure. I was a young person living in a highly-toxic and dysfunctional family of origin. But like so many of us...I didn’t know this then as I had no perspective. Our reality is...well...relative eh?
My story can be retold as one of triumph over adversity. It’s a fucking miracle I even finished Year 12 when I think back on that time! I only received that score via pulling countless all-nighters as I had a tendency to leave everything until the last-possible minute! (Cough...perfectionism strikes again). I had to put myself under incredible time pressure to actually put pen to paper. I was paralysed until the last-possible minute.
I’m not sure of your age Louise...but I grew up in the bad-ass 80’s and 90’s. There was no talk of “mental health” and/or “illness”, let alone neurodiversity! I also went to a private school. The only “Counsellor” was a “Careers” one. He told me not to study Art in Year 12 as I wouldn’t get the high score I (he/the school?) wanted. So I opted for subjects like Physics instead! WTAF?! I hated maths and science (even though I went on to obtain a Science degree but this is a story for another day! ;p).
I’m actually a Teacher now. Like you used to be. I also find myself dishing out “motivational words” (??) and/or platitudes to my students but not usually believing them myself. In my case, I think it’s because I often carry this sense of dread about the future of our planet (mixed with a nihilistic kinda personality/nature). It’s like...how can I ever truly really enjoy anything (or pretend like everything is okay and possible to my students) when I’m simultaneously staring down the barrel of imminent (and already occurring) ecological collapse?! But then I tell myself...”Claire - you’re just catastrophising as usual”. But am I? How to know for sure?!
Anyway - I digress ;).
My 7yo son just came into my room with his latest amazing Lego creation and said “Want me to show you how the Forcefield connects? And here’s the secret escape channel. The tiny escape pod will just escape from the mothership and get away”. Interesting timing eh? I have 3 children - all under 7 years old. Motherhood has been a simultaneous blessing and overwhelming/relentless responsibility for a person moves sooo s.l.o.w.l.y in the world. I just can’t keep all the plates spinning most of the time. It’s all too much so much of the time eh?
Anyway. (I’ve actually thought about changing the title of my Substack to “Anyway”. What do you reckon?!).
Well...the mountains of clothes-folding and mundane life responsibilities are currently calling me to rise from me bed (as is my partner...silently...with the way she is clanging the dishes and not-so-subtly bringing me a coffee in bed ;p).
I’m really just writing to say Thank You Louise. Your writing DOES make a difference....because you’re leaning into your vulnerability and having the guts to share your www (words/worlds/wisdom). I just made that up...Corny but amaize-ing eh? ;p.
So yeah. Thanks mate - you’ve already helped me :).
Happy Sunday to you Louise ☕️ (and anyone else who might happen to stumble across this). I hope Melbourne life is treating you well. I lived there for years before moving to the coast. I love the ocean but I do miss the city’s diversity and possibility. But you just can’t “have it all” eh? ;). I’m increasingly okay with this. Xx