What keeps me from writing.

I love writing for this blog. I know that I haven’t done a lot of it, but I love writing for it. It’s not like tumblr, where I feel like I’m shouting into a sea of faceless people, and it’s not like facebook, were if I write something longer than a paragraph or two I run the risk of “Ranting”. And it’s certainly not like twitter, which I hate because I’ve never been good at condensing my thoughts to 140 characters or less.

No, here I can write what I want, for as long as I want. And even though I only have a handful of people who actually read my work here (Hi Mom) I take a lot of time to make sure each blog post is as well written as I can make it. The few readers I have (Hi Dad) may have noticed that I have been absent for the past 3 months. There are many reasons for this, and I feel compelled to explain to you all, and myself, exactly why I haven’t been writing that much. It’s not that I didn’t want to write stuff, I DID want to write stuff. I have plenty of blog posts half-written, or bumping around in my brain. I just wasn’t able to get them written before the desire to write ran out for the day. And if I do get them completely written out, it takes another few hours to make sure it’s not as shitty as I think it’s going to be.

The struggle is real.

See, I am not a writer by trade. I do not want to become an author, nor do I want to become a reporter (but it would be fun to review films for a living, take note Entertainment Weekly). For me, writing has always been a hobby. And it’s almost impossible for me to write something creative on a deadline. I tried giving myself a deadline last year (I keep wanting to say last semester because for some reason I still think I’m in school) and it did not work. For a while I felt bad, because I wanted people to come to my website regularly and said that I would update once a week. I felt like I had let other people down (all four of you reading this now) and I felt like I let myself down. I was also afraid of what people would think of me. The blog is pretty prominently displayed on my website, and I use my website to gain interest in my work as a Director and Producer. I put the blog portion on my website originally because I thought that A) It would give prospective employers a chance to look and see that I am well rounded and pretty witty in writing, and B) it would give me a chance to have a creative outlet. But now I’m afraid people are going to come to my website and see that I’m sporadic in writing, and take that as a sign that I am not punctual, or that I’m flaky. I’m not, but it could be perceived that way based on my writing history.

But now I realize that I can’t care about that anymore.

I mean, obviously I care about what prospective employers think of me, but I shouldn’t be stressing out about writing things in a timely manner. I shouldn’t be stressing out about creating original content in a medium that is not the focus of my career. The more I stressed out about it, the less I wanted to write. And the less I wrote, the more I stressed. It was (and still is sometimes) a vicious cycle. Now that I’m taking the pains to break the cycle, I can take a step forward. You’d think that taking the pressure off myself would mean that I would now be able to write easy peasy right? WRONG.

Honestly one of the biggest reasons why I haven’t been writing lately is the reason why so many humans in the world don’t get half the things done that they want to get done and that is TIME. I am a slave to time.

The thing I’m usually forgetting is my blog post.

See, about a week after my last post (Written about an amazing night in which 4 broadway stars signed the bottom of my coffee table) my life literally exploded and everything got very busy, VERY FAST. To summarize;

Had an interview at The Public Theater, was a part of the producing team for BOSSS, started working at The Public Theater (thus starting two jobs), went to Disney World with my father (separate blog post to come later), produced a show, went on a few dates, saw Star Wars, got a bridesmaids dress, went home for the holidays.


When I started writing this post on Monday, I was working two jobs, had three producing credits on the horizon, a wedding in a few months, and was going through the possibility of traveling through europe with my sister.

Then Tuesday happened.

I don’t want to go into too much detail, but basically my evening job called to tell me that they don’t have any work for me for the next few weeks, and less than an hour later my internship told me that they could not pay me more than the $25 a day that I (and all the other interns) are currently getting. SO from a financial standpoint, I am unemployed. Yay!

You see? You see what happens when I start to write again? I start writing something, and then something happens and it just takes over my life completely. I wish it wasn’t so, but it is. Anyway, back to how I’m a slave to time, blah blah blah.

Before now, I would go to work at The Public from 10 am to 6 pm, and then go to my evening job from 6:30 until 10:30, or if it was a friday, as late as 1 or 2 in the morning. So weekdays are pretty much booked (unless I have down time at The Public and I can get a few words written here and there) and then on the weekends, I’m so tired I can barely do the chores I need to do in order to keep my house livable, much less write a blog post. Time is precious, and when I have free time I opt to be lazy rather than productive.

We all know this lounge position. This is the “I don’t give a shit” position.

So lets see, we covered time, we covered stress… These are all very human things, are they not? The last reason is a more serious reason, and it’s something I will probably touch base on more in another post, when I’m ready. But the last reason is my ongoing battle with depression. Learning to live with depression is hard, but learning to live with it in a busy city like New York is (to me) harder. And it turns out that even when I have ideas in my head and tell myself I want to write… I just can’t bring myself to opening up my laptop. I just can’t. Depression makes me ask “why would I write about this when I could just… sleep? Or lay in my bed? Or do nothing?”. There’s way more to this, but I would rather go over it all in another post. And the drive to write is running out. But writing while depressed is another thing I can work on and improve.

At the end of the day, writing here is therapeutic. And after a certain point I just get frustrated and post whatever the hell I have just so I can be done with it. And while it’s nice to think that someone out there is reading my words and is possibly getting something from them, and that’s why I write, but in reality, it’s all for me. Selfish blog for a selfish millennial. If you need me, I’ll be writing half of a blog post and then forgetting about it for 3 weeks.