Dear readers,
As I sit here, sipping my lukewarm coffee and staring blankly at the cursor blinking on my screen, I can’t help but wonder: How the heck did I end up in this dark abyss of blog-writing purgatory? Ah yes, the dreaded lack of motivation, the bane of every writer’s existence.
Hello, my neurodivergent millennial comrades, it’s your girl Amanda here, drowning in the deep waters of writer’s block. You see, I made a lofty goal for myself at the beginning of the year to churn out two dazzling blog posts per week. And here we are, over halfway through, and I find myself sinking deeper into the quicksand of procrastination.
So, how does one drag oneself out of this creativity-deficient hole? A Google search provided me with the ever-so-helpful advice of setting measurable goals. Well, guess what, Google? I already have a measly goal of two posts per week, and I’m struggling to keep up with that!
The nagging feeling of failing to meet this self-imposed goal is suffocating me. The fear of missing a post, of falling short, looms over me like a dark cloud. I spiral into a vortex of all-or-nothing thinking, convincing myself that if I don’t hit that magical number of posts, I am a complete and utter failure.
But hold up, Amanda, let’s pump the brakes on this runaway train of self-deprecation. Let’s take a moment to appreciate the fact that I’ve already birthed over 60 blog posts into this cruel, cold world. Isn’t that something to celebrate? Isn’t that a mini success story in itself?
Perhaps, my dear readers, it’s time to shed the shackles of rigid thinking and reframe the narrative. Instead of dwelling on the posts I haven’t written, let’s bask in the glory of the posts I have birthed. Let’s pat ourselves on the back for the progress made, for the words spilled onto the digital page.
So, to my fellow neurodivergent souls struggling to keep the creative flame flickering, remember this: Your worth is not defined by the number of blog posts you churn out. Your worth lies in the mere act of trying, in the tenacity to push through the fog of self-doubt.
And hey, if all else fails, just remember this: At least you’re not ghostwriting for a cemetery. Now, that would be a dead-end job, quite literally.
Until next time, lovelies, may your coffee be strong and your will to write even stronger.
Yours in the trenches of writer’s woes,
Amanda